The Pursuit of Happiness
by Open Casket Ceremony
Summary: Ichigo and Hitsugaya seem to be perfectly happy together, but just how long is this so-called "happiness" going to last? With new threats headed their way, staying "happy" is going to be a lot harder than it looks. IchiHitsu, sequel to "Fishing."
1. Strawberries Make Mistakes

Author's Note: Here it is, the long-anticipate sequel to _Fishing_! Well, actually, it wasn't really that long. More of an hour of waiting. Ha. Well, for convenience's sake, I'm going to try as hard as possible to make this fic so that you wouldn't have to read the whole _Fishing_ beforehand to know what's going on, though I may occasionally refer back to it.

Enjoy and keep the reviews coming. So, without further ado, I present to you: _The Pursuit of Happiness_

* * *

It really wasn't that long ago since Kurosaki Ichigo had first successfully asked Hitsugaya Toshiro out on a date. 

This first date had been a shambles, but they had managed to get right back on their feet and establish a good, solid relationship with each other, based on a mixture of respect, trust, and though Hitsugaya would viciously deny it at times, love.

It really hadn't been that long ago since Hitsugaya and company had been called back to Soul Society, either. Really, only three months had passed.

But for Ichigo, those three months were long and torturous.

He was fairly obsessive about the thought that he would just _have_ to see his ice prince again, and soon. Long-distance relationships are tricky to pull off, especially if you're dimensions apart, but Ichigo was convinced that they would be able to manage fairly well.

Hitsugaya had left him with three very important rules.

Number one. No drugs.

Number two. No alchohol.

And number three. No sex, you perverted beast.

Ichigo had adhered to all three of these rules very obediently, because it wasn't really like he did any of that to start with anyways. He was a good boy. A good boy, who got fairly good grades, who was good with his family, and of course, had a very good love life.

But it would be better when Hitsugaya would come back to the real world.

So one can only imagine the strawberry's manic delight when he received notice that Hitsugaya, along with several other members of a hand-picked unit, would come back to the real world to keep Karakura town safe.

As soon as school let out that day, Ichigo was the first one out the door, without even bothering to say good-bye to any of his peers. Bah, who needs them when the very advent of your lover beckons to you from near and far? In this case, from Urahara's shop. He had been thinking about it the whole day, and it had even led to confusion when Orihime had caught sight of him scrawling what seemed to be a lopsided, demented fairy on the cover of his notebook with a permanent marker. (He later confessed it was actually meant to be a doodle of Hitsugaya in bankai form, but who can deny that those wings made him look like a little angel?)

So, here he was, walking in the direction of Urahara's shop, feeling it high spirits.

It didn't take him that long to reach the area, and he knew his way there well, since he had made multiple trips there on various occasions. Jinta seemed to be asleep on the floor at the shop's door, slacking off, as usual, and Ururu seemed to be doing his share of the sweeping while he napped.

Ignoring the two younger (and not to mention much more...midget-y...) children, the strawberry ducked through the doorframe and entered the shop. The first thing he saw, was not a blur of green-striped hat, as usual, but instead, a tuft of white hair.

_"TOSHIRO!"_

Ichigo launched himself forward, grabbing the white-haired recipient with much conviction that was only a step below strangulation.

"Toshiro! I've missed you!"

"I'm over here, idiot."

"Huh?"

Ichigo froze. Now that you mention it, the object of his uncalled for glomping _was_ awfully tall. And it was impossible for anyone to grow that much in just a span of three months, provided there was no use of steroids involved in the process. Furthermore, this white hair was strangely long...and it _so_ did not smell like Hitsugaya.

He looked up to meet this person's eyes.

What the hell? They weren't even _remotely_ green.

That was when the thought hit him. Oh, _damn_.

"U-Ukitake!?" He quickly withdrew his grasp in horror, feeling shudders climb up and down his spine. Oh, _hell_ no. He had _not_ just glomped _Ukitake_ and call him 'Toshiro', before screaming about how much he had missed him during the long, three month absence.

The taichou of the thirteenth division, however, didn't seem to mind too much, reacting with nothing worse than an avuncular chuckle of amusement. "I believe you're looking for Hitsugaya-kun? He's behind me. I only accompanied the group to see them off."

"R...Right..."

He peered around Ukitake to see his favorite little shinigami in all his black-and-white-robed glory. It couldn't be anyone else. Everything about him was just plain unmistakenable, from the tufty white hair, to the pouting lips (which were just begging to be kissed), to the delicate arms, which were crossed over his adorable little chest, to the aquamarine eyes, and all the way down to the way that his white tenth-division haori complimented his slender figure in just the right places.

And good thing he was thin, too, Ichigo thought, because he was, no offense, rather short, and a short and fat taichou wouldn't be very attractive to him in the least bit at all.

Ichigo didn't hesitate to jump right over there and give Hitsugaya a good, solid hug.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, Toshiro. Honestly, if I'd have to go one more day without seeing you, I'd go insane and I'd probably break the 'no drugs' rule and mysteriously die of an overdose."

"If you broke one of my rules, I'd spit on your dead body."

"You're mean, Toshiro!" Ichigo pouted. "You've hurt my feelings," he whined in a high-pitched voice. "But I'll forgive you if you give me a kiss," he added hopefully.

"No kisses."

"Why not?"

"You...nearly suffocated Ukitake."

"Oh, come on! Just one kiss! Please? I've been deprived of love and Toshiro-ness for months! Don't tell me I can't have just one teensy little kiss! Puh-lease, Toshiro? Be a good boy!"

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes heavenward, but finally surrendered to Ichigo's obnoxious begging.

"Fine. Just one. No more than that." And with that said and out of the way, he placed a brief kiss on the strawberry's cheek before withdrawing.

"I have to leave now," the young captain muttered. "I'm scheduled to patrol north Karakura five minutes from now. I'll see you later, Ichigo."

"You have to leave already? But you just got here!" Ichigo protested.

"I'm sorry. Sotaichou's orders."

And with that, he was gone, leaving a very disappointed Ichigo behind.

A few moments after Hitsugaya had disappeared, Ichigo felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned to see Ukitake, who had a rather grave expression on his face. Oh, damn. He couldn't really have good news.

"Before I leave, as well, Ichigo-kun, I just want to ask you to take good care of Hitsugaya-kun."

Ichigo gave the man a confused expression. "Huh?"

"We believe he is being targeted by an unknown person, or persons," he explained. "We have not verified this, however, so we are not positive on the details, and as a consequence, Hitsugaya-kun has no knowledge of this yet. Keep a sharp eye out, and don't let anything happen to him. I know he trusts you, so we're all counting on you to keep him safe, and to report back if anything is to occur."

"Y-Yeah. I will," Ichigo responded quickly, still confused, and to be frank, shocked. Someone was _targeting_ his precious Toshiro? He didn't know what this person wanted, or why they were choosing to do so, but he _did_ know that whoever this was was looking to get their ass kicked, and kicked hard.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, there you have it. The first chapter to the sequel. Tell me what you think? Yay, or nay?

We'll see how it goes.


	2. The Lord of Plastic Surgery

Author's Note: How was the last chapter? It came out a little too rushed ofr my tastes, ick. Well, here's another one.

And, here's a warning - Another character will be brought into the story, and they may be _extremely_ out of character. Here's an apology up front beforehand. And, another warning, there will be a little swearing in this chapter, too, so please don't take offense.

* * *

Things were just the way the should be, Ichigo thought. 

After making some negotiations, Ichigo had arranged it so that Hitsugaya would stay at his house for the duration of the unit's residence in the real world, and Matsumoto, the annoying pest she was, would keep living at Orihime's. They seemed to get along well, anyway.

Not only that, but the group also continued to attend Karakura High, so Ichigo wouldn't have to look far during the school day to catch sight of his darling little boyfriend, but he also was extra careful to keep his notebook out of view, fearing he would see the awful little doodle of him he had drawn on its cover.

This particular day was no different.

They walked home together, with Ichigo's fingers interlaced with Hitsugaya's. The weather was very nice, like any other typical spring day in Karakura. They would occasionally exchange quick snippets of conversation, but not much, since Hitsugaya wasn't particularly the talkative type.

"Weather's nice, huh, Toshiro?"

"Not really."

Ichigo frowned. In Hitsugaya's perspective, the weather was never nice, unless it was cold enough to facilitate snow in large quantities. And that was a fact that the strawberry would have to live with for probably what seemed to be quite a while.

"Whaddya think about school?"

Hitsugaya gave Ichigo a bored look, responding, "Too easy. You humans have really low expectations."

"Not true!" Ichigo retorted. "Not all of us are geniuses like you, you know!"

"Oh, do stop your whining, Ichigo."

"Whining? I'm not the one whining about school being too easy, you little hypocrite," Ichigo teased, rumpling the smaller boy's snowy hair.

"Don't call me a hypocrite, you insolent strawberry."

"Aw, you're too mean. You should consider being nicer," Ichigo mused, "Or I won't love you anymore."

"Just tell yourself that."

"Psh! You're too smart for your own good! How'd you know I was bluffing?"

"An idiot with mental retardation would be able to distinguish it in a nanosecond."

"Such big words," the strawberry teased. "Maybe you I ought to just make you stop talking, right?"

Before Hitsugaya could respond, Ichigo placed a kiss on his lips, seeming to snatch the words right from his mouth before they could escape from his deliciously irresistable lips. Hitsugaya made a muffled sound of irritation, but Ichigo concluded that the fact that the boy was not withdrawing told an entirely different story.

"You're getting used to it, aren't you?" he laughed as the pair finally unglued themselves from each other's faces. "You used to have to most adorable, wide-eyed, deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression whenever I'd kiss you without telling you first."

"Shut up. Back then, I was simply caught off guard."

"Hey! Why do you always have to talk so militaristically? Can you get your mind off your job for once and focus on the greater good, you adorable little workaholic?"

Hitsugaya's eyebrow twitched. "Greater good?"

"That refers to me! I'm the greatest good that's ever going to happen to you!" Ichigo laughed. "Don't deny it! You know it's true..."

His speech slowly trailed off as he began to notice a very strange and eerie reiatsu indeed, unlike anything he felt before. He glanced at Hitsugaya, who seemed to have tensed, so it was safe to assume that he, too, had sensed the abnormal shift in spiritual pressure. In fact, based on the way Hitsugaya's eyes widened the slightest bit before narrowing further suggested that perhaps he was familiar with this reiatsu, as if he had encountered it before.

"You feel it too?"

Hitsugaya slowly nodded, a troubled expression hidden just below the surface of his teal eyes.

"Toshiro, what's wrong?"

"I-It's nothing..."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, suspicious at the hasty denial. There _had_ to be something wrong, but he decided not to press the subject any further to avoid embarassing or annoying the young captain, or possibly even a combonation of both.

Suddenly, there was a blur of inky black, a surge of reiatsu, and the next thing Ichigo knew, the back of his head had been slammed against the cement of the sidewalk, followed shortly by the rest of his body, colorful dots blurring his vision for a split second as his skull made contact with the ground. Then was the horrible feeling of cold steel pressed against his throat, which unmistakenably, was a katana.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Ichigo stared up into a complete stranger's face, or rather, into a stark, white mask.

"Um, actually," Ichigo pointed out, "I believe the question is, Who the hell do _you_ think you are? Get off me!"

The figure, who was dressed in a shinigami's shihakusho, along with a ragged and dirty cloak, was entirely unfamiliar. A shinigami? Ichigo had never seen such a person around in Soul Society ever before, and the fact that this random stranger had tackled him onto the sidewalk did not sit well with him.

"What is your relationship with Hitsugaya Toshiro?"

A thought suddenly struck Ichigo's mind as Ukitake's words replayed in his mind. _"Take good care of Hitsugaya-kun...We believe he is being targeted by an unknown person or persons..."_

"What does it matter to you!?" the strawberry spat. "Stay away from Toshiro, you hear me!? Lay just one finger on him and I'll kill you!"

"What does it matter?" the masked stranger repeated. "What does it matter? Everything, that's what matters! Do you have any idea how expensive the damned conditioner I bought to put in my hair to impress him with cost!?"

(Now to mention it, this guy really _did_ have shiny hair, Ichigo thought.)

He finally stood, releasing Ichigo, before turning to Hitsugaya, his hands moving to the mask and removing it from his face, to reveal a pale young man who couldn't have been too much older than Ichigo, who bore an ugly scar on the side of his face.

Hitsugaya's eyes widened slightly before he took a step back. "K...Kusaka?"

"Yes, it's me, dammit! Look at my face! Look at my face, Toshiro! You see this scar? You see this fucking scar!? This is from fucking plastic surgery! I had fucking plastic surgery so I'd be good enough for you, and look, my fucking face gets screwed up, dammit! And what do I see when I've finally found you? That despite everything I've been through, I'm _still_ not fucking good enough for you, dammit! Who the hell's the fucking carrot top, huh!? Is he your fucking boyfriend or what, dammit!?"

Ichigo let out a breath of air. Was this guy's favorite word "fuck" or what? Though "dammit" probably ran a close second.

"Kusaka," Hitsugaya responded impatiently. "It's probably been at least fifty years since we broke up. Get over the academy days."

"Fifty years, and you never returned my fucking phone call!"

"Phone call? You mean phone _calls_? You probably called my office about sixty thousand times, though it was most likely my fukutaichou answering about three-fourths of the time."

"Come on, Toshiro, just give me one more fucking chance," Kusaka begged. "One more chance, that's all I need to show you that I'll be a better person to you than that fucking carrot top will ever be!"

"Kusaka, please. It's been a long time. You shouldn't wallow in the past."

"You make it sound so fucking easy to forget! But I'm not going to forget, not ever, dammit! You were _everything_ to me, Toshiro! I've dreamed about you and you've always been on my mind for the last fifty years, and you just want me to fucking forget!?"

"Look," Ichigo growled, stepping between the arguing pair. "I don't know who the hell you are, or how you're familiar with Toshiro, but it's obvious he doesn't want to be near you, and yelling at him like that isn't going to change anything!"

_Oh, hell yeah_. He was feeling good about himself - He could cut obsessive, stalker ex-boyfriends down to size!

"You just wait and fucking see, Toshiro. I'll show you how good I can be, even if it means killing the fucking carrot top first."

And with that, he disappeared.

* * *

Author's Note: For those of you who don't know who Kusaka is, I don't blame you! Go and do your research on the second Bleach movie (_The DiamondDust Rebellion_), and you'll find out. 

Yeah, I know he got the scar in a different way, but I couldn't help but poke some fun at him and refer back to the days when he and Hitsugaya were good friends (though in this fic, they were more than that!)...But it kind of makes you feel sorry for him, doesn't it? And I'm sorry I made him say "fuck" so much, he just looks like the angsty kind of guy to do something like that...


	3. Bite Your Head Off, Chew Your Lips Off

Author's Note: Hm, so Kusaka has hopped into the picture. It's not hard to see that there'll be some drama there, right? You'll just have to wait and see what'll happen.

And, sorry this chapter won't really be that funny. It's really hard to squeeze humor into an arguement, so bear with me.

* * *

"..." 

"..."

There was a _really_ long and _really_ awkward silence that followed the departure of the mysterious Lord of Plastic Surgery, as Ichigo had mentally dubbed him.

"He was your boyfriend?" the strawberry finally managed to inquire.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Since when!?" Ichigo spluttered. "Why didn't you _tell_ me, Toshiro!? Why didn't you tell me you had a psycho, plastic-surgery-addicted, obsessive, stalker ex-boyfriend who has jealousy issues and wants to kill me, huh!?"

"I didn't know!" Hitsugaya retorted. "I didn't know he'd..."

"_You didn't know!?_" the strawberry repeated, anger welling up in his voice. "How the hell do you 'not know' about your own ex-boyfriend!? Aren't you supposed to be a friggin' genius or something!? Don't tell me you didn't know!"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it! You don't look sorry to me! You've got that smug little expression on your face, the one you always have twenty-four-seven! You - Don't you roll your eyes at me, Toshiro! That psycho is going to kill me! You could have at least warned me!"

"Ichigo, I said I was sorry. I thought...I thought he was dead...I haven't seen him since I received his death notice," Hitsugaya muttered, looking at his feet in a somewhat ashamed manner, as if he was scared to look at Ichigo directly in the face.

Ichigo's expression softened for a moment before he gently ruffled his little prodigy's white hair. "Aw, Toshiro, I shouldn't have yelled at you," he murmured. "If you had just told me from the start that he was supposed to be dead, then..."

"Told you?" Hitsugaya's eyes flashed in cold anger as he smacked Ichigo's hand away from his head. "How could I have had the chance to tell you? You never listen to anything anyone has to say, Ichigo. You just go on yelling and throwing a fit, or getting drunk like last time, just like the hot-headed fool you are! You're always acting like you can't trust anyone else, especially not me. You just yell at me, and then you expect me to forgive you right after you're done ranting? I can't believe you. You have no respect for me at all, do you?"

"What!? Since when!? Just look at who's ranting now!" He grabbed Hitsugaya's hand, but the boy instantly pulled away.

"Don't touch me, Kurosaki."

"Honestly, Toshiro, you know what you remind me of? You remind of a rotten, spoiled, little _child._" He was extra sure to put much emphasis on the word "child."

And he instantly regretted it.

The temperature began dropping at a dangerous rate, and this was more than enough to tell Ichigo that he had _really_ screwed up.

Hitsugaya gave him a single withering look. "You're just like the rest of them," he spat venemously, "The rest of those fools who won't take me seriously because they think I'm still in goddamn diapers."

With that, he turned tail, walking away in the opposite direction.

"Toshiro..." Ichigo started after him.

"Don't follow me. I need time to think. Alone."

All Ichigo could do was watch, horrorstruck at his own tactlessness as Hitsugaya disappeared down the street. "Oh my god," he groaned, smacking his palms into his forehead in mortification. "What the hell did I just do?" Great. He probably had screwed everything up between Hitsugaya and himself.

And, unfortunately, he'd have to fix it.

* * *

Meanwhile, after storming off in a moment of pure hatred towards Ichigo, Hitsugaya found himself wandering aimlessly in Karakura's downtown district, wondering if he hadn't handled the arguement between himself and Ichigo very maturely at all. 

"What if he hates me?" he mused to himself, eyebrows creased in worry.

However, he didn't have much more time to worry as a voice addressed him from behind.

"What did the fucking carrot top do to you!?"

Hitsugaya's eyebrow twitched in irritation as he turned to face Kusaka. Again. Oh, boy.

"Kusaka, were you following me this whole time?"

"Um...no. I was not."

"You were."

Silence. Pause.

"Yeah."

"Kusaka, why do you insist on sticking with me all the time? Y-You're supposed to be dead, for crying out loud."

"But the carrot top was mean to you," Kusaka whined. "He was being a meanie-fucking-poo-poo-head. D'ya want me to fucking kill him for you or what?"

"No! Don't even _touch_ Ichigo."

"God! I was only fucking trying to help! You don't have to be so fucking mean to my fucking plastic-surgery-scarred face."

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. He could _so_ not handle another arguement right now.

"Kusaka, just leave me alone-"

Before he could finish his sentence, his ex-boyfriend lunged at him with a manic shriek and seized him by the arms before smashing his lips against his in a surprise-attack kiss.

* * *

After contemplating his position for a few minutes, Ichigo had decided that he should go look for Hitsugaya and properly apologize. After all, it was getting dark, and he was getting rather worried for the safety and welfare of his favorite white-haired shinigami. 

So he took off on a slow jog, leaving just as the sun set into darkness.

As the streetlights began to flicker on, he decided that he should perhaps search in the downtown area first. Since he wasn't on a shift, there was no way Hitsugaya could have brought his mobile along, which made things so much more complicated.

After a solid twenty minutes, if not more, of running, Ichigo was nearly out of breath, but he was pleased to acknowledge that he had successfully arrived in the downtown area without interference by traffic or homicidal pedestrians.

Unfortunately, his triumph was short-lived.

As he wove through the crowd, scanning the area for signs of white hair and aqua eyes, he suddenly came across a very sickening sight.

He thought he was going to throw up as he noticed Hitsugaya.

Standing off to the side with someone.

Kissing that "someone."

Someone who happened to be the Lord of "Fucking" Plastic Surgery.

* * *

Author's Note: Eek! Drama! We all know this isn't what it seems to be, but will Ichigo know the truth? Stay tuned to find out! 


	4. Body Slam of Doom

Author's Note: Last chapter ended on a semi-cliffhanger, I guess, and, as you probably predicted, there is apparently some tension now between Ichigo, Hitsugaya, and Kusaka, which can only mean one thing: love triangle! Gah. I've been watching too many Korean dramas...

* * *

As much as he wanted to, Ichigo couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight. He felt like his heart was going to drop into his stomach and dissolve for him to puke up onto the pavement. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, and he could feel his heart pounding a million miles a minute, until... 

"G-Get off me!" Hitsugaya viciously wrenched himself away from Kusaka, an expression on his face that appeared to be a mixture of both disgust and shock. "What the hell are you trying to do?" he hissed, icy venom dripping from his voice.

"Oh, come on, Toshiro, don't fucking be like that, dammit! I've really missed you and everything, so don't pretend you didn't fucking miss me, either!" Kusaka retorted.

By this point, Hitsugaya was seriously getting pissed off, and it was time to give Kusaka a harsh dose of reality, best served cold. Very cold.

"Kusaka, I _have_ missed you. But that was in the past. This is the present. You were never there for me, when I needed you, and then you had to go and die or whatever the hell you did, because apparently, you aren't dead, but at any rate, you left me. Right now, I've got Ichigo. He means more to me than you ever have. He's not going to just walk aout on me like you did before I dumped you. He's not going to turn his back on me like you _always_ did. I can trust him. I never felt like I could trust _you_. And I'm not going to jeopardize all of that just so...so you can try to make up for _your_ mistakes! Because you can't! You can't go back in time and reverse it, even if you wanted to!"

"Toshiro," Kusaka protested, pointing at his scar. "_This_ is how much I fucking love you! I'd do anything for you. I'd die for you if I had to. You know I would."

"You had your chance, Kusaka. You threw it away. And that's not my problem."

With that, Hitsugaya stormed off without even bothering to look back.

Still watching, Ichigo couldn't help but triumphantly think to himself, _"Ha! You just got **owned**, plastic-surgery boy."_

That was when he noticed that Kusaka had spotted him.

_Oh, shit_.

With a squeak of horror, Ichigo scrambled off in a mad dash, Kusaka in hot pursuit.

"Get your fucking ass back here and face me like a man, carrot top!"

"S-Stop following me, you freak! Get away!"

Passerbys watched in confusion as Ichigo bolted down the sidewalk, running away from a nonexistant pursuer, screaming obsceneties at seemingly no one. (Of course, as Kusaka was not in a gigai, the average person wouldn't be able to see him.)

Damn, Kusaka was a fast runner.

Not having any Soul Candy with him, Ichigo despairingly sank further and further into the bottomless pit of doom as he realized he would have no chance to outrun Kusaka, eliminating any hopes of escape.

He was right.

A split second later, he felt a large mass on him before he slammed into the ground, face-first, yelping in pain as his palms scraped across the concrete of the sidewalk.

"What the hell!? Did you just _body-slam_ me!?"

"Yes, I fucking body-slammed you, you fucking carrot top!"

"Get off me! What did I ever do to you!?"

"You _stole_ him from me! You stole my Toshiro!"

Oh, hell no. He _so_ did not say that. Ichigo resisted the urge to snap his fingers in a Z-formation, instead continuing to bicker with him.

"_Your_ Toshiro!? Since when is he _yours_!?"

"Since fucking forever!"

"You're full of bullshit! He dumped you a long time ago!"

"So? I still love him more than you ever fucking will!"

"What!? I love him just as much as you do! Probably more! Get off me!"

"No! I'm going to fucking kill you, you hear me!? I'm going to slice your fucking carrot-topped head off!"

Ichigo's eyes widened at the sound of a katana being unsheathed. Oh, great. He _was_ serious. And in this case, "serious" was not good news. He promptly began to flail around, screaming various obsceneties that your mother would not approve of. Not the least bit. And definetely not your grandma, either.

"Get off him!"

Both Ichigo and Kusaka stopped abruptly at the sound of Hitsugaya's voice.

The strawberry, with much difficulty, craned his neck to look up at Hitsugaya, who had rid himself of his gigai and was standing in front of the pair in all his black-and-white-robed glory, Hyorinmaru in his hand, which he had pointed dangerously at Kusaka's throat.

"I said, get off him."

"Toshiro, he's taking fucking advantage of you!" Kusaka accused, pointing accusingly at Ichigo. "He doesn't really love you! He said so himself! I had to get the truth out of him at swordpoint, dammit!"

Hitsugaya's eyes widened, and his grip on Hyorinmaru loosed exponentially.

"I didn't say anything like that!" Ichigo yelled, shoving Kusaka off of himself. "He's lying! He's a goddamn liar! Toshiro, you can't believe anything he says!"

"Who do you believe?" Kusaka demanded. "Me, who you've known for so long...Or the fucking carrot top?"

"I..."

"Toshiro," Ichigo insisted. "I'd never lie to you! I'm not like Mr. Plastic Surgery here!"

"I don't know who to believe," Hitsugaya finally muttered. He dropped Hyorinmaru to the floor, tears stinging at his eyes. "Please, both of you, just...Just grow up already." And with that, he disappeared.

Ichigo hastily snatched up the dropped katana, giving Kusaka a death glare. "Now look what you've done!"

"Don't blame me!" Kusaka growled. "But don't forget that I'm going to get you! I fucking swear I will!"

And then he, too, disappeared, leaving Ichigo alone, clutching Hyorinmaru and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now.


	5. Storytime and Snot Issues

Author's Note: Wow, what screwed up relationships we have, no? Read on and see if Ichigo will manage to calm Hitsugaya down, okay?

* * *

"Taichou, I thought you were staying at Ichigo-kun's house," Matsumoto said, raising her eyebrows. Moments ago, her captain had strolled through the doorway of Orihime's home, as if nothing was wrong, but, being the observant fukutaichou (or lucky guesser) she was, she knew that, in fact, something _was_ wrong. 

"I just need some time alone. That's all."

"You two fought, didn't you? Did you have an arguement? Did you two break up?"

"Stop asking questions, Matsumoto."

"C'mon, taichou," she persisted. "Something's up. I can tell. Want to talk to me about it?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"I would _so _understand! I'm the ultimate genius when it comes to relationships, right?"

With a sigh, Hitsugaya plopped himself down on a couch, and Matsumoto promptly seated himself next to her.

"Is Inoue around?"

"She's napping. Why?"

"I don't want anyone else to hear what I'm about to tell you."

Matsumoto perked up. Ooh, secrets. She loved secrets, but she couldn't promise she wouldn't spill them. "Go on, then."

"Matsumoto...Do you remember Sojiro Kusaka?"

The buxom fukutaichou thought for a moment, trying to recall a face. "Yeah. I do. What about him?"

Her captain looked at his feet as if they had become very interesting all of a sudden.

"When I first entered the academy, Matsumoto, I didn't make any friends. The rest of the students looked down on me, made fun of me, or simply ignored me. I felt so alone, but there was only one person who accepted me and was kind to me. I'm sure you can guess who he was."

"Um, Kusaka?"

"Correct. Anyway, he was kind to me, and we became friends quickly. I felt safe when I was near him, and I felt happy. Soon after, we..."

"You two started dating," Matsumoto finished brightly.

"Erm, yes. I was happy, and I loved him, but I never felt as if I could trust him. Something about him told me that he was dangerous, that he couldn't be trusted. He was always disappearing, always turning his back. My insticts pulled me away from him, so not long after I was promoted to captain of the tenth division, I split up with him."

"And then?"

"After we split, he became angry with me. He thought that my ego had grown after I had become a captain. But it was nothing like that. Weeks later, he disappeared after being sent on a mission. I never heard from him again, until I received a notice that informed me that he had been killed in the line of duty. I was devastated. Although we were no longer a couple, I hate to admit I had never cried harder in my life. His body was never found."

"Ah, yes, I remember now," Matsumoto nodded gravely.

"I've missed him so much," Hitsugaya murmured quietly. "But I still believe that I did the right thing when we split. I convinced myself to forget about him, but I saw something familiar about him in Ichigo. Ichigo, however, I feel I can trust, but that's beyond the point. I know why Kusaka's body was not able to be found."

"Why?"

"That's the problem, Matsumoto. He isn't really dead."

Matsumoto's eyes widened as she stared at her captain in disbelief.

And then she burst out laughing.

"That's the cheesiest story I've ever heard, taichou! You sounded like the narrarator of some overrated soap opera!"

A vein of irritation appeared on the boy's forehead, and slowly, the temperature began to drop.

"Why do I even bother..."

* * *

"God, Renji, why am I so stupid?" Ichigo wailed, pounding his head against his bedroom wall. "He probably _hates_ me now, and it's all that freaking Kusaka guy's fault! I'm losing him! And I don't _want_ to lose him! You have no idea how much I want to tear the Kusaka guy's nose off! It's probably fake!" His sentence ended with another loud _THUNK_ as he banged his head against the plaster wall again for the hundredth time that night. 

"Relax, Ichigo," Renji insisted, patting his back. "You've just got to show him you're way better than Kusaka...Hold on."

"Huh?" The bleary-eyed strawberry looked questioningly at Renji's sudden pause, a long trail of snot dribbling from his nose, which he had failed to notice.

"That Kusaka guy. You _sure_ his name was Kusaka?"

"Sure."

"I thought he was dead," the tatooed redhead mused. "That's weird. You see, Hitsugaya-taichou and Kusaka-kun were dating a while ago. But then they broke up, and then Kusaka-kun was killed during a mission..." He suddenly started snickering. "Ha! You should have seen Hitsugaya-taichou's face after he got the death notice. He was blubbering like a leaky faucet-"

_SMACK._

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Don't you dare make fun of Toshiro," Ichigo growled.

"Well, you don't look that great, either," Renji responded. "There...There's something coming out of your nose."

Long silence.

Ichigo slowly put a hand to his nose and wiped at it with his palm. A long string of sticky liquid stuck fast to his hand as he moved it away from his face.

"..."

"Dude, that's gross," Renji snapped. "Go wipe it off."

With a sullen nod, Ichigo reached over and wiped his palms on Renji's pants, leaving a smeared streak of what seemed to be a repulsive, green-ish mixture of snot, boogers, tears, and drool.

"..."

"That's just sick, Ichigo. I just got these damn pants, too."

* * *

Hours later, in the dead of night, the doorbell of the Inoue residence rang. 

Yawning, Matsumoto blindly made her way through the dark, hissing in pain as she stubbed her toe on a mysterious object.

As she hobbled into the living room, nursing her aching toe, she noticed her captain, who had fallen asleep on the couch. She giggled, taking note that he looked like an innocent little child, curled up on the coushins and fast asleep.

The doorbell rang again.

Muttering to herself, Matsumoto opened the door, only to find no one was there.

She looked down at the doorstep.

"Hm," she grunted. "That's funny."

On the step, someone had left Hyorinmaru, along with a small boquet of flowers and a paper note, which had been folded into a small square.

"Must be for taichou," she mused as she scooped up the load and dumped them on the floor next to her sleeping captain after closing the door. However, curiousity got the better of her, and she couldn't help but quietly unfold the paper note and read it to herself.

_" Toshiro -_

_You left your katana behind earlier today, so I thought you might like it back. I'm sorry that all that had to happen today, with your ex-boyfriend and everything, and I really shouldn't have yelled at you. I was being a bastard, wasn't I?  
I hope you're not still mad at me. I'll hate myself if you are. So if you aren't busy, then do you want to hang out with me tomorrow night? It'll just be me and you, okay? Give me a call, and if there's anything you need to talk to me about, don't hesitate. _

_- Ichigo_

_P.S. I love you._

_P.P.S. I really, really, really love you._

_P.P.P.S. So don't stay mad too long, okay? "_

Matsumoto giggled to herself.

"Ha. Now _that_ was cheesy."


	6. Victory for Strawberries

When Hitsugaya awoke the next day, he wasn't too surprised to find that he was still on the couch in the Inoue living room. With a small moan, he rubbed his eyes and blinked against the sunshine, which was seeping through the open window.

As he sat up, a pile of items on the floor by the couch he was situated on caught his attention. Hyorinmaru, a small bundle of flowers, and a note. He picked the katana up, muttering a quick apology to it before placing it in his lap. He then scooped up the bouquet, looking at the flowers it contained.

It was actually quite an ugly and mismatched bouquet, but Hitsugaya knew it had to be custom-requested from the florist because of its components. Hyacinths for sincerity, poppies for consolation, white roses for purity, and apple blossoms for promises.

He then unfolded the note, scanning its contents, a small smile appearing on his lips as he read the postscript. Or rather, postscripts. Ichigo had kind of gotten carried away with them, it seemed.

"That idiot," he murmured to himself, but the tone of voice wasn't mocking for malicious, in fact seeming to be slightly amused, and maybe even affectionate. After all, he had gone into all the trouble of writing an apology letter, having a custom bouquet done, fetching Hyorinmaru, and even clearing time in his schedule to invite him out on a date. They hadn't gone on one in a while.

He rose from the couch, placing Hyorinmaru on the table, pocketing Ichigo's note and carrying the bouquet into the kitchen. After rooting through Orihime's cupboard, he finally located an empty jar that was tall enough to accommodate the flowers. With assistance from the kitchen sink, he filled it half-way full with water. Or half empty? Is the glass half-empty, or half-full? Another paradox of life, but that was beyond the point.

After he deemed the water deep enough, Hitsugaya placed the bouquet inside. If Ichigo had gone through all the effort, then simply tossing it in the trash would be rude. Besides, he discovered that the bouquet looked kind of nice placed in the front window sill, as gaudy as it was.

Looking at the clock, he decided it was too early to call Ichigo, but he already made up his mind that he would accept the strawberry's invitation.

"Taichou!"

A hyper Matsumoto bounded down the stairs, followed closely by a sleepy-looking Orihime. "Taichou, you're up early!"

Apparently, Matsumoto was a morning person.

"Early?" the boy repeated, raising an eyebrow. "It's already nine o'clock, Matsumoto. I hardly consider that to be 'early' at all."

Matsumoto glanced at the windowsill, an expression of glee making its way onto her facial features as she noticed the bouquet. "Ah, taichou, that's the one Ichigo gave you, isn't it? You put it in the windowsill, but usually, you'd throw it away…Ooh, you really like it, don't you?" she squealed. "Admit it! You like what Ichigo gave you!"

"Sh-Shut up!" Hitsugaya muttered, his face flushing a pink color. "I do _not_ like it. It would simply be a shame to throw it away. It looks expensive."

"If you insist," Matsumoto giggled, but she knew better.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Kurosaki residence, Ichigo had fallen into a deep state of depression during breakfast. He hardly touched the meal Yuzu had prepared, claiming he wasn't hungry, but he had something else on his mind. Hitsugaya still hadn't called yet, and he was starting to wonder if he really was still pissed off at him. 

"Onii-chan, why aren't you eating?" Yuzu inquired, looking worriedly at her older brother. "Are you sick? Is your tummy upset?"

"No," Ichigo grunted, poking at the food unhappily. "I'm just not hungry."

"Nah. He's just too busy trying to imagine what his white-haired boyfriend would look like naked," Karin muttered, without looking up from the book she was absently flipping through.

"Wh-What!?" Ichigo spluttered, looking at Karin in horror. "I'm not that shallow! Where'd you get that idea anyways? I bet those kids you play soccer with are warping your brain!" After all, Karin seemed to hang out with only guys, and it's a known fact that guys are all perverts at heart. Maybe those sly demons were corrupting her.

"Onii-chan!" Yuzu screeched, smacking her brother. "You're gross!"

"Don't worry, my boy," Isshin cut in. "It's perfectly natural and and okay to think of naked people. It's all part of becoming a man."

Ichigo _really_ wanted to hack some hollow to bits right now.

All of a sudden, the phone rang, its long trill snapping Ichigo out of his depressed phase. He made a desperate lunge for the telephone, sending his chair clattering to the floor in the process. He also accidentally bowled Karin over, 'accidentally' being the keyword. Ah, revenge was sweet.

Unfortunately, Isshin got there first.

Horrorstruck, Ichigo crashed to the floor, hands still desperately outstretched as his father grabbed the ringing phone to answer to the caller.

"Hello?"

"Um, is Ichigo there?"

Isshin frowned for a moment. "Who is this?"

"Oh, I'm Hitsugaya Toshiro-"

"Ah, Toshiro!" Isshin basically roared delightedly into the mouthpiece. "You must be my son's boyfriend! I've always wanted to talk to you! How're you doing? Ah, I see, that's good to hear! I'm fine too, thank you! My, what a polite boy you are! Ichigo obviously made a good choice! Now tell, me, Toshiro, how's my son? Is he a good kisser?"

_"DAD!" _Ichigo screeched in protest, amidst Karin's snickering and Yuzu attempting to suppress her giggles. "Give me the phone, old man!"

He snatched the phone from Isshin's hands with a growl, shooting death glares at him before stomping away to his bedroom to talk in peace.

"Hey, Toshiro. Sorry about my dad, he's too nosy for his own good."

"Oh…It's alright."

"No, it's not alright, I'm really, really, really sorry, he's just trying to 'fit in with the youth of today' or whatever…"

"Really, I don't mind."

"Um, so anyway…About later today…I don't suppose you want to hang out? We can have dinner, and then I guess we'll do whatever…Hang out at my place, maybe, catch a movie, take a walk, anything you feel like doing is fine…"

"That would be nice."

"Great!" Ichigo beamed. "Then I'll come by Inoue's at around six, is that okay with you?"

"Yes, that's fine."

"See you then, Toshiro."

"You too."

With that, Ichigo hung up the phone, grinning in triumph. Things seemed to be fixed between the two of them, and all that was left to do was to consult Renji for ideas on how they should spend the night together.

Feeling lighter and cheerier, he opened his bedroom door.

Only to find Yuzu and Isshin sitting outside, they had obviously been trying to listen in.

"…"

"Good job, son! I'm proud of you! Like I always told you, it's just like…"

"No, Dad, don't even go there. There's no way in hell it's anywhere _near_ fishing."


	7. Three Eyed Monster

Author's Note: I was kind of playing with some ideas the other day, and I came up with a bunch of different plot twists...But I ultimately decided against using MPREG. Thanks for your feedback. The concept _is_ kind of weird and freaky to me, but I actually did have a lot of ideas for drama and twists centralizing around that...Like impaling the unborn fetus with a katana. Ha. But I'm not going to use MPREG, so rest assured, no weird stuff up ahead. I don't think I'm a good enough writer to pull it off, anyway.

* * *

So, at around five-thirty, Ichigo was all set to start out on his epic quest. 

It wasn't really that epic, though. But it was a quest nontheless.

Unfortunately, he had been unable to contact Renji for his feedback, as he had been training with Chad for the majority of the day, deeming himself too busy to help Ichigo out and give him some advice on what to wear and what to do. So, he was on his own for the day.

He decided to simply throw on whatever he felt comfortable wearing, which consisted of a fairly ordinary T-Shirt and jeans, over which he had pulled on a jacket to keep himself from getting cold.

And then, mentally wishing himself luck, he took a deep breath and stepped outside to set off.

The air outside was chilly, but humid, and the drone of cicadas was getting on the strawberry's nerves. Eager to escape the irritating weather, he decieed to hurry. The sooner he picked Hitsugaya up, the sooner they'd be able to get inside, where the air was conditioned to perfection.

As he neared the Inoue residence, he noticed something in the window sill. He smiled to himself as he realized it was the bouquet he had given Hitsugaya. Perhaps he liked it. He certainly hoped that was the case, because it had taken a lot of creative thinking to bring it into existence.

He stepped up to the door and gave it a hard knock.

"Ow!" he muttered, realizing he had knocked a little too hard, and now, his knuckles kind of hurt. Sullenly nursing them, he waited until the click of a doorknob being turned instantly snapped him back to his senses.

As the door opened, it revealed Matsumoto standing in the doorway, clad in Karakura High's school uniform skirt and a bright red, lacy bra. In her right hand she clutched a bottle of booze, and in her left hand, she clutched a pair of snowflake-print boxers. The cheap drug-store eyeliner she had been wearing was hopelessly smudged across her face, giving her the appearance of a three-eyed creature. A _drunken_ three-eyed creature, to be exact.

Ichigo's eyes bulged in horror. "Uh...um...Rangiku-san...Where's your shirt?"

Matsumoto stared at Ichigo, squinting her eyes, before slurring, "I dunno. Where's yours?"

"I'm _wearing_ it."

"Really? I dun' see nothin'...Who're you and whaddya want?"

"I'm Ichigo," the strawberry explained in exasperation. She was definetely drunk if she didn't know who he was. "Um, I'm here for Toshiro?"

"Huh? 'Shiro? Who's that?"

"Your _captain_."

"Right. I knew that. Swear I did. I really did."

"TAICHOUUUUUU!" she suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs, causing Ichigo to yelp in surprise and clap his hands over his ears. "There's a mad rapist out here who wants 'ta see you! He says his name is Itch 'n Go!"

"Rapist!?" Ichigo spluttered. "I would never rape _anyone_!"

Moments later, Hitsugaya appeared in the doorframe, dressed in a pair of jeans, a plain blue coat, and a snug-looking scarf. Boy, did that scarf look fuzzy. Ichigo was seriously resisting the urge to reach out and pet it and croon over it like it was a little puppy.

"Matsumoto," Hitsugaya sighed, "Go sober up and put your shirt back on..." He stopped abruptly, eyes narrowing. "Why do you have those?"

"Why do I have what?" Matsumoto giggled. "You mean these?" She triumphantly held up the boxers, dangling them high above her vertically challenged captain. "I'm not gonna give them back 'til you strip and wear 'em for the Itchy 'n Go guy."

The temperature suddenly became chillier. Much chillier.

"Wretched woman," Hitsugaya muttered to himself, deciding he'd deal with her later. "So, um, shall we go then?"

"Y-Yeah," Ichigo said quickly. "Yeah. We should."

Closing the door in the drunken Matsumoto's face, Hitsugaya quickly exited the house.

"Thank you for returning Hyorinmaru to me."

"Oh," Ichigo responded sheepishly, "It was nothing, really."

"I think you deserve a reward."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"And what kind of reward are you referring to here?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Ichigo was surprised to find Hitsugaya place his lips against his, standing on his tip-toes to reach the taller boy. It was nice - soft, gentle, quick, and sweet. Ichigo promptly decided he liked it.

"Well, that was a great reward," he laughed.

"Appreciate it," Hitsugaya replied, "Because you won't be getting another for a while."

"What!? No fair! You're so mean!" Ichigo retorted jokingly, putting his arm around Hitsugaya's shoulders as the two set off.

Dinner was fairly simple, they stopped in at a local sushi shop for a quick meal. It was cheap, easy, and rather tasty. After munching on various varieties of sashimi, the yellowtail being particularly chewy that day, they came to an agreement that spending the rest of the night at Ichigo's house would be a good idea.

They left the sushi shop shortly after finishing their dinner, and it was only a matter of minutes before they arrived at Ichigo's home. Opening the door, Ichigo scanned the area, giving it a cursory overview to be sure that his nosy father or his pesky sisters were not lurking about. The house was deserted, so Ichigo assumed that Isshin was working in the clinic, Yuzu was helping him, and Karin was probably playing soccer somewhere.

The two entered quietly, shutting the door behind them. Ichigo headed straight for the couch, plopping down and making himself comfortable.

"You can sit, too, you know," he said, glancing towards Hitsugaya and patting the seat next to him. "You don't have to bee polite. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," the white-haired boy answered quietly as he sat where Ichigo had indicated.

"So...whaddya want to watch?" Ichigo inquired, rifling absently through a pile of DVDs. "Any of these sound interesting to you? Let's see..._Children Getting Run Over by Cars_...That sounds kind of morbid, huh? What else do we have? _The Dangers of Obesity_? I think that's a documentary. _Cannibal Janitors From Pluto?_ Oi, Pluto's not a planet anymore, is it? _Evil Dinosaurs and Rabid Cavemen_? _The Revenge of the Salmon_? _Good Cheese Comes From Happy Cows_? _Pretty Ponies In Dreamland_? Ah, that one's got to be Yuzu's..."

He stopped abruptly upon seeing a DVD entitled_ Boob-a-Licious Babes in Sexland: The Quest For the Golden Penis_.

"...What the hell is this? Is it Dad's?"

"What?" Hitsugaya inquired.

"N-Nothing!" Ichigo spluttered, hurriedly shoving the offending DVD under a corner of the carpet, lest it be seen. "It's nothing! Hey, um, so, anything you want to watch?"

"Not really," Hitsugaya responded. "Whatever you want is fine."

After several more moments of mental debating, Ichigo finally settled for an old-school horror movie, deciding that he was in the mood to be scared, even if he had already seen that particular movie on various occasions. So he popped the disc in, sat back down on the couch next to Hitsugaya, and eagerly anticipated the movie to begin, so that they would be able to enjoy themselves, something they hadn't been able to do in a while.

* * *

Author's Note: Warning, I plan on putting a lot of alcohol reference in the next chapter or so. So, if that stuff makes you feel offended, I apologize beforehand. 

And sorry if that scene with Matsumoto was weird to you. And the mysterious X-Rated movie Ichigo discovered. Speaking of which, none of those movies are actual titles, and they all came from my imagination. I know, they're random, but I couldn't think of anything else...


	8. The Wrath of Mister Plastic Surgery

Author's Note: So sorry I haven't updated in a while...I was super-busy. Anyways, here's Chapter eight for you. I mentioned there would be alcohol use, but actually, there won't be so much in _this_ chapter, It's _next_ chapter you'll have to watch out for. Sorry for my mistake. To make up for it, this chapter's slightly longer.

* * *

At around the time the movie had ended, the night's hours had already become quite late.

"I should be getting back now," Hitsugaya muttered as he disentangled himself from Ichigo's arms, standing to his feet and stretching. As cozy as it can be, snuggling with others can really make your muscles cramp up in the most unpleasant way.

"Back where?" Ichigo inquired.

"Inoue's home."

The strawberry frowned. "So you're not staying at my place anymore?"

Hitsugaya shook his head. "It's best not to."

"Why not, Toshiro?" Ichigo protested in a whiny voice, seizing the white-haired captain by the wrists and pulling him back into his lap. "Are you still upset with me?"

"No, nothing of the sort."

"Then why?"

With a sigh, Hitsugaya rested his head against Ichigo's chest and murmured, "I just don't think it's safe. I don't want to see you get hurt because of me, Ichigo. As long as I'm with you, you're in danger."

"What're you talking about?"

"I mean…You know who I'm talking about."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. You know, _him_."

"Toshiro, you'd damn well better explain to me."

"Ichigo, you know perfectly well."

"I do not! C'mon, spit it out! Please? I'll give you a kiss if you tell me!"

"I don't need your kisses."

"Liar! You do _so_ need them! They're your life sustenance!" Ichigo announced triumphantly. As if to prove his point, he pressed his lips to his, his hands toying playfully with his little lover's white hair.

"Ichigo!" Hitsugaya snapped, swatting at his face and pulling away. "This is a serious subject! Why do you have to start joking and kill the dramatic moment?" he pouted.

"C'mon, Toshiro, you know you liked that."

"I did not."

"You did so – See! You're smiling! You _did_ like it!"

"I am _not_ smiling!" Hitsugaya retorted, but that was actually a rather stupid thing to say because he actually _was_, even as he spoke of denial.

"So, you ready to tell me?"

"Oh, come on, Ichigo, use your brain…Oh, my mistake. I seem to have forgotten that you never had a brain to start with."

"You're so mean!" Ichigo laughed, tussling Hitsugaya's hair affectionately. "I do too have a brain!"

"No, you don't."

"Your mom doesn't."

"That was lame, strawberry."

"Your mom's lame."

"Oh, shut up."

"Tell your mom to shut up."

"I'm warning you-"

"Your mom's warning you."

"…"

"Ichigo, stop saying that."

"Tell your mom to stop saying that. I'm not stopping 'til you explain to me, full and clear, why you can't stay here."

"Because…Because Ijust _can't_."

"Your mom can't."

"Oh, for the love of Hyorinmaru…"

"Oh, for the love of YOUR MOM."

"…"

"…"

"Fine!"

"Your mom's fine!"

"It's because of Kusaka."

"Your mom's Kusaka – Wait, what? What did you say?" Ichigo stopped abruptly, looking at Hitsugaya with an expression of worry.

"Ichigo, if he sees me with you again, I'm scared that he'll…I just don't want to him to hurt you. I can't deal with losing someone again. Is that too much to ask?"

"Losing someone again? Toshiro, what are you saying?"

"I loved Kusaka, and then I lost him. I can't bear to lose you, too."

"You _loved_ him?"

"That was so long ago, I swear he doesn't mean anything to me anymore…"

"I…I'm sorry, Toshiro. C'mon, let's go. I'll walk you back to Inoue's house." Ichigo gently kissed Hitsugaya's forehead before rising from his seat on the couch.

So the two set off into the night, moving quickly as to reach Orihime's residence as quickly as possible. Their conversation about the vengeful Lord of Plastic Surgery had made both of them uneasy, as if he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. Which was actually a really scary thought.

At last, they reached the home, and Hitsugaya slipped the keys into the lock and gave them a firm turn, the lock clicking in surrender, thus allowing him to push the door open.

He almost wished he hadn't.

Ikkaku, Renji, Yumichika, and Orihime were all sitting around in the room, and Matsumoto had just entered from the kitchen, carrying what seemed to be a large crate filled with bottles and bottles and bottles of sake.

"Matsumoto, what is the meaning of this…"

He froze as his eyes caught sight of a sixth figure, seated on the couch.

"Ichigo…Get away from here. Now."

"Toshiro, what's going on?"

"Just leave."

"Toshiro…"

"Please."

As Ichigo peered around Hitsugaya's shoulder, he saw exactly why he had been imploring for him to leave the property.

There sat Kusaka, arms crossed over his chest, wearing a particularly smug expression. He looked up, his eyes flickering over Hitsugaya, before he spotted Ichigo.

"Oi, you. Yeah, you, carrot top. Get your fucking ass away from my Toshiro."

"Oh, so he's _your_ Toshiro now, is he?" Ichigo snapped venomously. "Excuse me for ruining your daydreams, but in case you didn't notice, he's very happy with me. Isn't that right, Toshiro?"

"Ichigo," Hitsugaya hissed. "Are you _trying_ to provoke him?"

"Yeah, are you fucking trying to provoke me, dammit?"

"C'mon, Sojiro, don't be a brat!" Matsumoto giggled. "Maybe you just need a hug."

"Get the hell away from me, woman! I don't need a hug-"

His words were stifled as Matsumoto wrapped her arms around the unfortunate Kusaka's head, smashing his face into her chest in a crushing embrace of doom.

"Let go of him, Matsumoto!" Hitsugaya demanded as he stepped inside the house, and she reluctantly did.

"You're no fun, taichou."

"Come in, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime offered eagerly. "You can have a seat if you want."

"Uhh…Nah, I'd better leave…"

"Be a man, Ichigo!" Renji encouraged. "Come on in!"

Reluctantly, Ichigo stepped inside the house, muttering unhappily to himself, whilst keeping a wary eye on Kusaka, who was also watching him, like a cat observing a mouse before it attacks and kills it. He gulped nervously.

And then it happened.

There was a blur of inky black and the flash of an unsheathed katana. Ichigo had no time to react to the sudden assault, and he braced himself for impact.

At that moment, Hitsugaya threw himself in between the pair, Hyorinmaru in his hands.

Katana met katana with a loud, metallic clang.

"Get out of my fucking way, Toshiro," Kusaka growled.

"I'm not obliged to listen to you," Hitsugaya retorted, "And as your superior, I'm ordering you to lay down your sword."

" Superior my fucking ass! You think you're so damn great because you became a taichou and I didn't! That's it, isn't it? I'm not good enough for you! I was never good enough for you! And then the fucking carrot top has to come prancing into the picture and steal you away! What's so great about him, anyway, dammit!? He's just some fucking kid who doesn't know shit!"

"Kusaka, please…"

With a sudden and vicious movement, Kusaka slapped Hitsugaya across the face – hard. The impact was enough to send the boy sprawling to the ground, and a deathly silence followed as the rest of the room's occupants watched in mute shock.

"Am I good enough for you now, huh!? Am I!? Am I fucking good enough for you!?"

"Listen, you bastard," Ichigo hissed, "Touch Toshiro one more time and I'll cut off your head and mount it on the wall."

"Hey, hey, you guys," Matsumoto chirped. "There's no need to be so mean to each other! Shall we settle our differences over a drinking game?" She hopefully extended a bottle of sake.

Kusaka seemed to take this into consideration. "Hmm, come to think of it, I _am_ kind of fucking thirsty…"

"I'll play if Mr. Plastic Surgery here'll shut up," Ichigo agreed.

"I'm in!" Ikkaku announced happily.

"Me too," Yumichika said, following Ikkaku's example.

"So will I," Renji declared.

"Um…Me, too, I guess," Orihime added timidly.

All eyes turned to Hitsugaya.

"What about you, taichou?" Matsumoto inquired. "Are you going to play?"

"No."

"C'mon!" she insisted. "Just play!"

"No."

"Be a man, Hitsugaya-taichou!" Renji shouted.

"Yeah," Ikkaku agreed. "You need to learn how to have fun."

With a sigh, Hitsugaya reluctantly nodded. "Fine."

"Yay!" Matsumoto squealed as she distributed the sake. "Good for you, taichou!"

Let the games begin.


	9. Drink Up, Me Hearties, Yo Ho!

Author's Note: Yikes, I actually didn't like last chapter a whole lot. I dunno what you think, but I'm getting the impression that this fic is losing its humor. And no, that ain't a good thing.

* * *

"So, Rangiku-san," Yumichika mused, "How is this game played?" 

"First," a delighted Matsumoto instructed, "Everyone sits in a circle, yeah? What're you still standing there for? Sit down, you guys."

With the threat of the monstrous boobs of doom looming, everyone was too hasty to comply, scrambling to sit in a circular pattern on the living room floor, in the following order, clockwise: Matsumoto, Renji, Ikkaku, Yumichika, Orihime, Ichigo, Hitsugaya, and Kusaka.

"Okay, so here's how it goes. We go around in a circle and take turn saying something, and if you've done that something before, then you take a drink. For example, 'Drink if you've shoplifted.' If you _have_ shoplifted before, then you take a drink. First one to drain their bottle loses. Then, we spin a bottle, and whoever the nozzle points to gets to pick a punishment for the loser. Sounds fun, ne?"

"Fun?" Hitsugaya muttered, staring grudgingly at the bottle of alcohol in his hands. Boy, did Matsumoto have a _really_ screwed up idea of 'fun.' He couldn't see anything fun about getting drunk at all.

"Right then, I'll start, then we'll go clockwise," Matsumoto announced as she cheerfully opened her bottle of sake, almost eagerly. "Drink if you've ever kissed someone."

There was a silence before Ichigo took a drink, then Kusaka, and then, quite reluctantly, Hitsugaya, who nearly choked on the alcohol. He had never drunken anything _remotely_ alcoholic, and it came as a shock for his unprepared body.

"You okay, taichou?" Matsumoto inquired.

Hitsugaya merely scowled in response, which seemed to be a 'no.'

His fukutaichou shrugged. "You'll get used to it. Anyways, you're next, Renji."

"Drink if you've skipped assembly before - Or, school, in the case of Ichigo and Orihime."

Hitsugaya was the only one who didn't drink. "Slackers," he muttered.

Next was Ikkaku. "Drink if you've stolen something from your captain before."

Matsumoto giggled sheepishly before taking a long swig. "Sorry, taichou."

Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed. So _that_ was why his favorite calligraphy brush had suddenly disappeared off his desk. And that would probably also explain why his tabi had suddenly gone missing another day, which he was still upset about, because he hated having to go and search through the _children's_ department for another pair that would fit his small feet.

"Drink if you think I'm pretty," Yumichika said cheerfully. He was the only one who drank.

There was a long, long, long silence. No one moved.

"..."

Yumichika seemed to be very dejected, and his depression would last throughout the rest of the game.

Next was Orihime, who took quite a while trying to think of something to say, so she squeaked out the first thing that came to mind.

"Erm...Drink if...Drink if you're bald."

There was a pregnant pause as all eyes went to Ikkaku, who was staring back obliviously.

"What?"

"You're supposed to take a drink," Matsumoto snapped. "No cheating."

"Why!? What was the statement again?"

Matsumoto blinked. "Um, never mind. My mistake." Best not to repeat the word "bald" in front of Ikkaku. Unless you were looking to have Hozukimaru shoved up your ass at any given point.

"Drink if you...um...Drink if you've ever lied before."

Now at this, practically everyone drank, because, apparently, lying is something that comes natural for everyone, even the most respectable and dignified shinigami has lied at some point in time. A little lie, perhaps, but a lie's a lie, and you'd be lying if you said you've never lied, and thus, you'd have to drink anyway.

"Drink if you wish you don't have to play this infantile game anymore," Hitsugaya muttered.

He was the only one who drank. Everyone else actually seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"Go on, Sojiro, your turn now," Matsumoto piped cheerfully, nudging Kusaka encouragingly.

"Drink if there's someone you'd like to see dead."

There was a pause before he took a sip. Ichigo gulped, and he, too, quickly drank. This was followed shortly by some musings, and then Hitsugaya drank, thinking about Ichimaru. He supposed it would be nice to rip off that wretched, smug foxface of his.

"Yay, my turn again!" Matsumoto squealed. "Hmm, let's see..." A grin came over her face. "Drink _five_ times if you've ever had sex before! Big sips, 'kay?"

"Hey, since when can you add more drinking times?" Renji demanded.

Matsumoto shrugged. "Since now."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, come on," she exclaimed, "Don't tell me we're all virgins!"

With a sigh, Kusaka reluctantly raised the sake to his mouth to take the drinks. One sip, two sips, three sips, four sips, and five sips. Muttering to himself, he lowered the bottle, then glared at Hitsugaya, whose face was steadily reddening like an overripe tomato.

With lowered eyes, and with all the dignity he could muster, Hitsugaya slowly put the bottle to his lips and reluctantly drank. One, two, three, four, five. He felt humiliated as the seconds dragged by after he had guiltily lowered the bottle back into his lap.

"Seriously!?" Matsumoto shrieked, shattering the stunned silence that hung uncomfortably over the group, a painful silence that seemed both awkward and confused. "Seriously, taichou!?"

"Shut up," Hitsugaya muttered.

"Toshiro, are you kidding me!?" Ichigo spluttered. "But..but you're..."

"Sorry," was all the white-haired boy could manage to respond with in a voice barely above a whisper, eyes glued to the floor as if he was frightened to look at Ichigo directly.

"You're just jealous," Kusaka accused, "You're just fucking jealous 'cause he won't have sex with you."

"I am _not_ jealous!" Ichigo retorted angrily. "Why the hell would I be jealous, huh!? It's not like he isn't sleeping with me or anything! 'Cause we are! We sleep together a lot! So take that and shove it up your ass, plastic-surgery boy!"

"Ichigo, stop it," Hitsugaya hissed.

"Um, thanks for sharing, Ichigo," Renji blinked.

"Hitsugaya-taichou, you slut!" Yumichika yelped.

By this time, the young captain _really_ wanted to disappear.

"Hey, taichou," Matsumoto declared, peering into her captain's bottle. "You're out."

"Seriously? That fast?" Ikkaku asked.

"Yeah!" Matsumoto squealed, snatching Hitsugaya's empty bottle and placing it on its side in the center of the circle, giving it a hard spin. "You lose," she giggled.

All eyes warily watched the bottle until its revolutions came to a stop, its nozzle pointing at the recipient.

Kusaka.

A scowl came over Ichigo's face. Damn that stupid scar-faced pretty boy.

"Ooh, Sojiro," Matsumoto giggled. "This ought to be fun."

Kusaka contemplated for a moment, looking towards Hitsugaya, whose face was still very red, and whose hands were clenched tightly.

Finally, he spoke.

"First, you've got to drink a whole 'nother bottle of sake..."

"What!?" Hitsugaya yelped. "But..."

"...And secondly," he smirked, "You've got to give me a kiss."

"Hey!" Ichigo protested. "That's not fair! You can't make him do that, you filthy, scheming, son of a..."

"Yes, I can too do that," Kusaka retorted. "The rules say that anything fucking goes, right, Rangiku?"

Matsumoto nodded as she went to fetch another bottle of sake, which she thrust into her protesting captain's hands. "Drink up, taichou," she giggled.

Everyone watched as Hitsugaya clutched the bottle, gritting his teeth, before finally, he snapped, "Fine." And with that, he opened the bottle, put it to his lips, and drank.

As Ichigo watched in horror, Renji and Matsumoto cheered the poor boy on as he finally finished the last drop of alcohol, his aqua eyes dulled to a murky green as he hiccuped and dropped the now empty bottle to the floor.

"That wasn't so bad now, was it?" Matsumoto cheerfully inquired.

"Never again," the boy managed to say, "I'm never doin' that. Not never again, 'kay?" His speech came out softly and slurred, the words blurring together as his small body trembled dangerously. So much alcohol going into such a small body at once was not good news.

Horrified, Ichigo came to a realization.

His innocent little white-haired boyfriend was drunk.


	10. Drink 'Til You Drop

Author's Note: Eek, Hitsu's drunk. That can't be good...

* * *

"Taichou," Matsumoto reminded, "Don't forget, you've got to give Sojiro a kiss, right?" 

Hitsugaya looked at her blearily, before turning to Kusaka, a frown coming upon his flushed complexion before he turned away in disdain.

"I dun' wanna."

"You have to."

"I dun' hafta if I dun' wanna."

"Yes, you do."

"You ain't my mommy."

"Maybe you just haven't fucking had enough to drink yet," Kusaka scowled, thrusting another bottle into the drunken taichou's hands. "Here, have some more."

Hitsugaya looked at the bottle in his hands, before a giggle arose from the back of his throat.

Ikkaku glanced at Yumichika as if to say, _What the hell?_

The white-haired boy then proceeded to seize the bottle, opening it and almost losing balance in the process, teetering precariously as he downed the liquid inside, taking in the alcohol as if his life depended on it. Gulp after gulp followed as everyone watched in silence - too shocked, or too freaked out to do anything to stop the boy from intoxicating himself.

After the last drop was gone, Hitsugaya promptly discarded the empty bottle, coughing pathetically. "More."

"Yay, taichou!" Matsumoto shrieked, eagerly handing him another bottle.

And another. And another.

And another.

Bottle after bottle was quickly drained.

"So, where's my fucking kiss, Toshiro?" Kusaka demanded.

Hitsugaya hurled the empty bottle in his hands at Renji, a loud CLUNK resulting as it ricocheted off the side of his head. With a yelp, the readhead sullenly rubbed the lump that had formed and was swelling at an alarming rate as Hitsugaya slowly leaned towards Kusaka, swaying unsteadily.

Ichigo blinked, a thought suddenly hitting him.

"You...You got him drunk on purpose!" the strawberry accused.

"So what if I fucking did? It's none of your business, carrot top."

"Why, you...you...You _alcohol freak_!" Ichigo spat, unable to think of a better insult. "You...You alcohol lowlife! You alcohol fiend!" He could feel his blood beginning to boil upon the sight of Kusaka's stupid, smug face, and Hitsugaya's lips inching towards his cheek. And that smug smile seemed to be triumphantly declaring to the world, _Ha, my name's Kusaka Sojiro and I'm getting laid tonight 'cause Toshiro's way too drunk to know better, so there, envy me!_

"Shut up, dammit! You're just jealous 'cause you want a fucking kiss, too!"

That did it.

Screaming obsceneties and various curse words, Ichigo flung himself forward, tackling Hitsugaya to the floor before his lips could reach so much as a five-inch radius of the impatiently awaiting Kusaka.

"Hey!" Kusaka protested. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"What does it look like, dumbass!? You think I'm just going to sit by and let Toshiro _kiss_ you!? God, you are just so _low_. I would _never_ take advantage of him, even if he was drunk. And more importantly...Hello? Earth to Mr. Plastic Surgery! He's _my_ goddamn boyfriend now, not yours, so stop acting like he still is!"

There was a muffled groan from underneath him, and Ichigo promptly scooted off, realizing he was probably squashing poor Hitsugaya into a white-haired pancake.

"Ichigo..." Hitsugaya whimpered. His eyes were dull, his cheeks were flushed a bright red, and his words were slurred and barely intelligible. "Ichigo, my head...feels like an owchie. A big...big owchie," he choked out, his face now streaked with tears. "...Don't leave me...Please don't leave me..."

"I-It's alright!" Ichigo spluttered, scooping his little ice prince into his arms and hugging him tightly. "I'm right here, Toshiro. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not going to leave you, so don't worry. You'll be alright, okay?" He patted his head reassuringly, hoping to calm down the boy, who had begun to sob hysterically in a fit of drunken emotion.

"Dun' lie to me! You're gonna leave me! Dun' leave, please! I dun' wanna die..."

"You're not going to die," Ichigo promised, hugging him tighter. "I won't leave you. Not ever. So don't cry, okay?"

"You...You promise?" he hiccuped.

"Promise."

Sniffling and letting out a contented sigh, Hitsugaya rested his body against Ichigo's chest, comforted by the strawberry's presence, a tiny smile on his tear-streaked face. It was barely noticeable, but it was definetely there.

"You'll be alright, Toshiro."

And that was when Ichigo realized that the boy was no longer breathing.

His eyes widened and his blood seemed to freeze in a moment of sheer panic as his realization sank in and registered into his mind. How much alchohol had he drunken that night? At any rate, it couldn't have been very good for his body at all.

"S-Someone call an ambulance! Now!"

"What's wrong?" Matsumoto asked, "What's wrong with taichou...?"

"He's not breathing!" Ichigo screamed desperately. "He's unconcious! Just hurry up and call a goddamn abulance _now_, will you!?"

The carefree attitude that had set over the room was now replaced with one that was of sheer panic as Matsumoto and Orihime made a mad dash together for the phone, while Yumichika rushed to the kitchen to get a cold towel and Ikkaku followed along. Reni hurried to Ichigo's side, seizing the unconcious Hitsugaya's wrist in an attempt to feel for a pulse. Kusaka, however, simply sat there, as if nothing was happening, and as if he had nothing to do with it.

Moments later, Matsumoto returned, beads of sweat dotting her forehead as Orihime hurried after her. "They're on their way," she said.

Yumichika and Ikkaku came in shortly after, Yumichika brandishing a towel, which had been soaked in cold water. He knelt down, gingerly pressing the cloth to the boy's flushed face.

Carefully lying him down on the carpet, Ichigo's eyes darted to the clock, and back to Hitsugaya anxiously. And then to Kusaka.

Kusaka looked back at him.

"What do you fucking want?"

"What the hell do you mean, 'What the hell do you want,' you moron!?" Ichigo screeched. "Look what you've done, you retard! This is all _your_ goddamn fault! No wonder Toshiro broke up with you! And just look at yourself...You're not lifting a finger to help him!"

"So? What's your point, carrot top?"

Ichigo gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to lunge at Kusaka with Zangetsu, but the wail of sirens and its flashing lights interuppted his venemous thoughts as the ambulance pulled up against the sidewalk outside.

* * *

Author's Note: Eek, drama, drama, and more drama. 

Sorry this chapter wasn't that funny. I'll try harder next time...


	11. Oh, Hell No, Bitch!

Author's Note: Sorry this update was kind of slow, I've actually been very busy. I get the impression, though, that my IchiHitsu fics are the only ones around that are updated regularly and frequently?

* * *

As the sirens screamed, and as red light flashed through the window, a thought suddenly struck Ichigo. 

Calling the ambulance had been a really, really, really, bad idea.

First of all, Hitsugaya was not in his gigai. They'd be unable to see him, and anyways, healing his gigai would be of no use to his physical being. Secondly, according to the government, Hitsugaya Toshiro was a nonexistent person. He had no legal documentation to his name - no papers, no forms, no registrations, no documents, no certificates of birth. They'd pobably assume him to be an illegitimate child, the product of an unplanned pregnancy, perhaps, or maybe even an illegal immigrant. At any case, it would be troublesome, and letting Soul Society's 4th Division take care of the predicament would be much more effective, but Ichigo was scared that there would not be enough time for a medical relief squad to arrive on the scene before something bad happened.

As he glanced desperately throughout the room for a solution, his eyes ran directly over Orihime.

Aha!

Why not ask her to _reject_ his current state?

He wasn't sure if it was possible, but it would have to work. Nothing else would be suitable, given the incapability of a real world hospital to treat him, and given the tiny time frame they had avaiable to wait for help from Soul Society.

"Rangiku-san! Can you tell those guys outside that everything's fine now?"

Matsumoto raised an eyebrow. "Are you crazy!? Then who's going to help taichou, huh!?"

"Just do it!" Ichigo snapped. "I'll explain everything later! Renji, Ikkaku, Yumichika - Can you three do me a big favor and clean up this mess? Plastic Surgery Boy...You...You just sit quietly like a good boy. Inoue, I want you to come with me."

"Kurosaki-kun? What's-"

"No time to explain," Ichigo cut her off as he lifted Hitsugaya's lifeless form, standing up and carrying the boy bridal style. "We've got to hurry."

"O-Okay!"

The two of them hurried into the guest bedroom as the rest scrambled to do as told (with the exception of Kusaka, of course, who had suddenly discovered that the silicone implanted in his nose from plastic surgery was making his face itch, and his undivided attention was focused soley on scratching it). Upon arrival, Ichigo placed Hitsugaya upon the bed, throwing the covers over him. Best to keep him warm and comfortable.

"Inoue, can you heal him?"

Orihime looked from Hitsugaya, to Ichigo, to Hitsugaya again, and then back to Ichigo.

Now, Orihime may have looked cute and innocent from the outside, so it is understandable if one was unable to predict her inner side, which was actually screeching, _What the hell is this shit!? Why do I have to help the midget!? He stole Kurosaki-kun from me! God dammit...I want to fucking slap something. Hey, Tsubaki. Yeah, you. Get your nigger ass over here so I can smack you to hell. Are you listening to me, Tsubaki!? Dammit, listen to me! You're MY bitch so you'd better listen or I'll get the insect repellent and spray it up your fucking ass!_

Ichigo took her hesitation as a bad sign. "Inoue, please," he anxiously impored. "Please do this... _for me_."

Ah, those were the magic words.

Orihime slowly nodded. "O-Okay. I'll do it."

"Thanks, Inoue," Ichigo grinned. "You're the best of the best, you know that?"

_Hell yeah, I know that, foo'. _

Smiling obliviously, Ichigo continued, "Great. Just do your best. I'm going down real quick to check to see if Rangiku-san's convinced them to leave. I'll be back in a sec."

As he turned to leave, the familiar golden glow, a sign of Orihime at work, told him that his dear little ice prince was in good hands. "I'm counting on you, Inoue," he added cheerfully before departing, darkly making a mental note to himself: _If that bitch screws up and can't help Toshiro, I'm going to rip out her hair and make a wildebeast costume out of it._

As he hurried down the stairs, he was relieved to find no presence of flashing sirens and no incessant screaming of the sirens. Ikkaku, Yumichika, and Renji were stowing away the empty beer bottles in trash bags.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"Yeah, Inoue's taking care of-" He stopped abruptly, narrowing his eyes and turning to its source. "Why do you care anyway, Plastic Surgery Boy? You didn't care before, why should you care now?"

"Because," Kusaka huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "Because I still fucking love him. That's fucking why, carrot top. Mind your own business."

"If you love him so much, then get off your lazy ass and go aplogize to him! It's your fault he's in this mess!"

"Fine," Kusaka retorted coldly. "Fine. I fucking will, then."

"Fine!"

"You fucking retard! I just said that!"

"No, _I_ just said it, dumbass!"

"You said it after _I_ fucking did! Shut up!"

"Liar!" Ichigo accused. "I don't have time to argue with you. I'm going to check on Toshiro." With that, he turned tail and marched away, back up the stairs, back to the guest bedroom.

He peered in cautiously.

The light was gone, Orihime was dusting her hands off, and much to his relief, Ichigo could see Hitsugaya's chest rising and falling softly as his lungs took in the sweet, fresh air.

"T-Toshiro! You're okay!" the delighted strawberry yelped as he immediately hopped to Hitsugaya's side, smiling ear to ear. "Ah, Inoue, you're great. I owe you for this, really."

"I-It was nothing.."

Ichigo peered at Hitsugaya, whose eyes were still closed, but at the presence of Ichigo's beyond obvious reiatsu, slowly opened.

"You okay, Toshiro?"

"Ichigo...?"

"Y-Yeah, it's me. How're you feeling? Is there anything I can get for you? Look, how about I go get you some water...?"

As he turned to fetch the water he had spoken of, he was suddenly stopped in his tracks as Hitsugaya feebly reached out and grabbed hold of his hand, his delicate fingers barely able to keep their weak grip.

"Stay," he rasped in an almost desperate, pleading voice. "You promised me…"

This was rather scary to Ichigo. Although Orihime had worked her abilities for him, the usually haughty voice was substantially weaker. His face seemed to be pale as a ghost, quite ironically, and his eyes were still clouded with the negative effects of alcohol. By this point, Ichigo was already starting to consider the possibility of liver problems brought about by the round of excessive drinking that Kusaka and Matsumoto had induced.

"You said so yourself. You said you wouldn't leave me."

"Yeah. I s'pose you're right," Ichigo sighed. He seated himself alongside the boy, stroking the white locks of hair fondly and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. "Don't worry. Go to sleep, okay? When you wake up, everything's going to be fine-"

"You sound like my grandmother."

"…"

"…"

That kind of killed the moment right there.

There was an awkward pause, as Ichigo was unsure how to respond to such a sudden and fluff-killing statement in a tactful fashion. Although he was severely tempted to say, "_Your mom_ sounds like your grandmother."

At that moment, the door opened with a loud creak, Kusaka standing in the doorframe, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

"Get lost, carrot top. I want to talk to Toshiro."

"Then talk to him."

"In private, you fucking retard. I want to talk to him in private."

"Oh, so it's some grand secret, I suppose?" Ichigo demanded sarcastically.

"No! I just don't want you to fucking listen! Get the hell out."

"Look, Plastic Surgery Boy, I was here first, okay? You can talk to him after I'm done, sound fair?"

Kusaka's fingers at the hilt of his zanpaku-to told Ichigo that he didn't think that sounded fair at all. The strawberry gulped, giving Hitsugaya a worried look.

"Ichigo, I'm sorry, but you'll have to give us a moment," the white-haired boy responded.

Ichigo gritted his teeth, but merely nodded. "Fine," and he was out the door, giving Kusaka a warning glare: _Touch him and I'll kick your ass all the way back to Hueco Mundo, freak. _

After the door had closed, Ichigo instantly sprang forward again, quietly pressing his ear against it, determined to hear every word that Kusaka had in mind to say.


	12. The Apocalypse?

Author's Note: Eh, lots of drama in this chapter. I didn't like the last one at all. But I _tried_ to make this one funny, kind of in the end-ish, but I don't think it worked. We're at Chapter 12 now, so, I suppose you've caught on with my patterning for fic lengths by now, and there are only three chapters left until this one's over at 15.

* * *

"What do you want, Kusaka?" 

Kusaka simply ran his eyes over the frail boy huddled on the bed with a look of disdain, observing him, before responding with a shake of the head. "I don't fucking understand you, Toshiro."

"What do you mean?" Hitsugaya demanded, keeping a wary eye on the young man.

"You can always call the fucking carrot top 'Ichigo.' So tell me, why can't you call me 'Sojiro'? Why do you insist on my fucking last name? You've never called me by my first name, not ever. Why is this other boy so fucking different?"

"Kusaka…It's nothing personal. I just…"

"Just tell me why, Toshiro," he retorted rather angrily. "Just tell me why you can't fucking love me."

Hitsugaya's eyes widened momentarily as he watched Kusaka.

"It's not like that…You have to understand that I _can't_ love you anymore. I just can't. And I won't."

"And why is that!? What the hell are you saying, Toshiro?"

"I can't, Kusaka. You know what will happen."

"No, I don't fucking know, Toshiro. It's because of the fucking carrot top, isn't it!?"

"This has nothing to do with Ichigo," Hitsugaya snapped. "Leave him out of this."

"Then why?"

Hitsugaya let out a long sigh, before propping himself up against the backboard of the bed. "You're a wanted criminal. If we're together, Soul Society will catch you. There's no doubt that you'll be sentenced to death. I don't want to lose you for a second time. You still mean so much to me, and I'll never forgive myself if something happens. But it's not just that. I don't feel like I can trust you at all. I don't even know who you are anymore. You're not the Kusaka Sojiro you were from our days in the academy. You're not the Kusaka Sojiro I know. You're…You're nothing more than a monster now! I know you can do better than this. Just forget the past, forget _me_, forget that anything _ever _happened between us. You've got to stop lying to yourself. Think about it. It's probably been half a century since we split, so don't act like we're still together. I've moved on since then. For god's sake, so should you."

_Ha_, Ichigo thought to himself as he listened from the outside. _You just got **burned**, Plastic Surgery Boy. _

There was a pregnant pause afterwards, before Kusaka spoke again.

"You know how much _I _loved you, Toshiro. I _still_ love you. I've thought about you every day. I never thought you could be such a cold, fucking, _bitch_."

"It's not about you. It's not about Ichigo. And it's not about myself, either, If you'd just listen to me…"

"I don't want to hear your shit anymore," Kusaka hissed venomously. "I know how it really is. I'm just a…a…a fucking _toy_ to you, aren't I? Some novelty that you just threw to the side because you met someone else? And then when _he_ dumps you after he finds out what kind of a person you really are, I suppose you're going to come running back to me and expect me to forgive you and take you back? You're so fucking pathetic, Toshiro, but if that does happen, I'll forgive you anyways. Because I love you so goddamn much, and I still will, and that makes me even _more_ fucking pathetic than you are!"

_"It's not like that!"_ Hitsugaya screamed back, on the verge of tears by this point, frustrated and beginning to lose his temper. "You mean a lot to me. You really do. But I can't live my life with you, ever. I can't trust you and I can't trust myself to keep you covered from Soul Society! Please…._Sojiro_. Just be reasonable."

"Reasonable!? You want be to be fucking reasonable!? You don't even understand what reasonable _is_, Toshiro! You don't understand _anything_ at all!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…"

"You didn't mean to _what_? You didn't mean to hurt me like you have? Yeah, right, do you honestly expect me to believe that!? Stop fucking lying to me! Everything you're saying to me is a load of fucking bullshit! This is all about yourself and your selfishness and the fucking carrot top!"

"Sojiro, _please_."

Kusaka merely ignored him, turning tail and throwing the door open.

(At this point, Ichigo had quickly scrambled from his listening-post outside and had ducked into a nearby bathroom.)

"Mark my words, Toshiro. Enjoy the time you have with your precious Ichigo while you can. I swear, I will fucking_ kill_ that bastard, you hear me?"

"If you lay a single finger on him, I will be sure to make you wish that you had never been born."

"What makes you think you can fucking do that? You've already taken everything away from me. I've got nothing left to fucking lose, so do what you fucking want!"

And with that, he disappeared.

There was a long silence afterwards.

With a loud and audible sigh of frustration, Hitsugaya grudgingly sank back into his pillows, jerking the covers over his head.

Wondering if now was a good time to return, Ichigo tiptoed out of the bathroom, a little freaked out by the argument he had just heard. Boy, he hadn't known that a screaming Hitsugaya could be so scary. It was almost as bad as a PMS'ing Rukia who felt like she could slap him whenever she pleased.

"Toshiro?" he asked cautiously as he stepped into the guest bedroom, through the door that Kusaka had carelessly left open. "Hey, Toshiro, are you alright?"

_"Go away." _

The strawberry paused, caught off guard and slightly hurt by Hitsugaya's blunt and painfully concise response. The tone he had used was unusually biting; he felt like his voice was a sharp and lethal icicle that had just stabbed him right through the heart.

"Toshiro-"

"Are you mentally retarded? I asked you to _leave_."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that. You just had a little argument, that's all."

"I said, _go away_."

Biting his lip, Ichigo tried again. "Look, if you're not feeling-"

This seemed to have been the last straw.

Hitsugaya sat up abruptly in the bed, his hand snatching Hyorinmaru from the bedside table, unsheathing the katana in a flash of steel. A split second later, and Ichigo realized that the sword was being pointed directly at his heart, ice crystallizing around the blade.

Oh snapz.

**_"Get the hell out of my sight, Kurosaki." _**

Crap. He had referred to him as 'Kurosaki.' And the way he had spoken, which had reminded him of frozen venom, simply sent chills up his spine, which wasn't being improved much by the rapidly dropping temperature. This could only mean one thing, and whatever it was, it certainly wasn't good news.

_Good job, Ichigo,_ he mentally noted with sarcasm_, Congratulations! You have just succeeded in pissing off the captain of the 10th Division! Your prize is…Getting your ass frozen off by Hyorinmaru! Oh, boy! What fun! _A peppy show tune played in his mind as he thought of this, which actually made the whole thing rather funny, but he was smart enough to turn tail and get the hell out of there like he was being chased by a Menos Grande on crack.

As he scrambled down the stairs, he was mentally considering if the whole building should be evacuated. Or possibly the whole Karakura Town. Or maybe even the entire city of Tokyo. In fact, the whole population of Japan just might as well find a huge bomb shelter to squeeze into. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem. The apocalypse is coming, so would you please not panic, grab your valuables, and get your asses into the damn bomb shelters already before you all die.

"What's wrong?" Matsumoto asked as Ichigo hurried down the stairs. "Taichou's reiatsu…It feels _really _scary. What the hell did you do?"

"Me!?" Ichigo spluttered. "I didn't do anything!"

"You got him mad, you moron!" Matsumoto shrieked. "What did you say to him!? What happened!?"

"I don't want to die," Yumichika sniffled unhappily. "I don't want to die just because that uncultured pig ticked Hitsugaya-taichou off."

"There, there," Ikkaku offered, patting poor Yumichika on the back and offering him a handkerchief, which he accepted, but promptly discarded after he discovered it was in a mossy shade of green, and it did not look good with the decorative feathers by his eye.

"Listen, you punk," Matsumoto growled, seizing the hapless Ichigo by the collar. "If you hurt my taichou, I will tear off your head and play _volleyball_ with it, do you understand?"

The strawberry nodded meekly, which unfortunately, did nothing to improve his dreary fortunes, only succeeding into provoking the fukutaichou of the tenth division into smashing his face into her breasts.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean, huh!? You're nodding!? You _want_ me to make your head into a volleyball, eh!? Fine! I'll do that, and you won't have a head to nod _with_ anymore, you insolent oaf!"

"…"

"…"

"…"

As Ichigo screamed for mercy, and as Matsumoto continued to shout at him, the others watched in mixed shock and confusion.

The "What the _fuck_?" look plastered on Renji's face was simply priceless. It was the kind of expression that works very well in photographs to be used as blackmail. _Now_ Zabimaru was getting some pretty good ideas…

"Oi, Renji," Ikkaku called, waving his hand in front of the redhead's face.

"Huh!?" Renji snapped out of his WTF-daze. "Yeah?"

"Aren't you concerned at all?"

"About what?"

"About Ichigo."

Renji glanced at him, a look of confusion on his face. "Well, I'm not pulling him away from Matsumoto, if that's what you mean. I mean, I don't want her to smash _my_ face in there, too…"

"No, you idiot!" Ikkaku snapped. "I meant about…You know, Sojiro and stuff."

Renji paused, glancing to the writhing Ichigo, and back to Ikkaku.

"Now that you mention it, yeah. There's no doubt that the two of them are going to tear each other to pieces over Hitsugaya-taichou. Whatever happens, happens, I guess, but whatever _does _happen…Definitely can't be good."


	13. The Tickling Demon

Author's Note: Yay, Chapter 13! Almost the end!

* * *

As the seconds ticked by and turned themselves into minutes, which in turn, transformed into hours, the ominous cold slowly began to recede. To their relief, the shinigami in the room, as well as Orihime, were no longer able to see their breath vaporizing in clouds in front of their faces.

Judging by the regulation of temperature, Ichigo assumed that perhaps it was safe to go and check on Hitsugaya, to see if he was alright, and a little bit of cuddling couldn't do any harm.

"I'm going to see if he's okay," the strawberry announced, making his way back up the stairs, somewhat nervously. As he approached the guest bedroom and peered into the door, he was relieved to find that Hyorinmaru had been returned to its harmless position on the bedside table, and Hitsugaya seemed to have calmed down, perhaps he had managed to sort himself out.

"Hey," he called out quietly as to not disturb the boy, "Can I come in, Toshiro?"

Hitsugaya eased the covers away from his face to peer at Ichigo, before slowly nodding in silent approval.

_Yes!_ Ichigo triumphantly thought to himself, doing a mental victory dance as he entered. _Kurosaki Ichigo – Conqueror of the Apocalyse and all things scary and icy, and…Cold-ish…? Or whatever. _

"So, um, feeling okay?"

Hitsugaya made no effort to speak, merely nodding quietly again.

"Need anything? Water? Ice pack? Ama-natto, maybe?" This was what Ichigo liked to call the "Sweet and Loving" approach. It _was_ kind of suspicious, like the teacher's pet who always offers to help his or her instructor in exchange for favoritism (though, usually, in the "him" case, it's most likely because of some freakish and abnormal crush he has on the probably young and probably hot teacher.) But, hey. You've got to do _some_ sucking up to get on one's good side.

This time, the response was a head shake.

"You sure?"

Nod. Nod.

"Anything at all?"

Shake. Shake.

"Hey, don't let that freak get to your head," Ichigo offered, trying to comfort him as he seated himself on the bed next to him, gently pulling the covers off his head. "And don't hide under the blankets, either. Babies have been known to suffocate under them, you know. I've read it in the paper before and there was this one show on TV – Man, there was this psycho lady who was smothering her five-year old kid under a comforter just 'cause he had a mole on his chin and it bugged her."

"Baby?" Hitsugaya repeated, with a pout on his face. "I'm not a baby, Ichigo. I'm not so stupid as to suffocate myself."

"I know, I know," he replied, patting his dear little ice prince on the head, absently weaving his fingers through the silky white locks. Seriously, that hair was damn soft, like feathers, with the slightest whiff of green tea and icy mint. They ought to make stuffed animals in a material like this. Now, _those_ would be some _fine_ stuffed animals. "That's because you're even cuter, right?"

"Shut up," Hitsugaya retorted. "Flattery will get you nowhere," but the tiny smile on his face seemed to dictate a different story. That's the taichou of the tenth division for you. Unpredictable and always in denial.

"No, I'm not trying to flatter you," Ichigo insisted. "I mean it. I mean, flattery is _way_ below your level. You're just too perfect. It's impossible to try to flatter you because there's no possible way I can make you seem better than you already are."

"Liar," Hitsugaya scoffed as whipped the pillow out from under his head and playfully smacked Ichigo across the chest with it. "Sweet talk is never truthful talk."

"Who are you trying to be, Confucius or something?"

"And who are _you_ trying to be with that face of yours? A hollow with a birth defect?"

"Oh, you naughty little boy, you're just asking for it now, aren't you?" Ichigo growled in mock belligerence as he seized the blankets, throwing them to the floor, exposing the boy to himself. He then proceeded to reach to the folds of the smaller figure's shihakusho, pulling the folds of cloth apart at his stomach, and with an insane giggle of childish delight, promptly began to tickle the sensitive flesh that had been revealed.

"Coochie-coochie coo!" he crooned. "Oogy boogy woogy!"

"S-Stop!" Hitsugaya shrieked, flailing wildly at the unwanted contact, thrashing about and resisting the urge to burst out in a peal of giggles. "Get off me!"

"Nuh-uh! You hurt my feelings and now I'm getting revenge!"

"Don't…Don't you dare!" Hitsugaya managed to gasp out as he suppressed the laughter he was dying to release. Frankly, that wasn't a pleasant feeling. It kind of felt like he was going to blow up and explode in Ichigo's face. That would serve him right, the evil tickling fiend.

A grin of triumph spread across the strawberry's face as he gave Hitsugaya's robes another good tug, revealing his slim waist. He didn't hesitate to bear down on his prey, tickling along his sensitive sides.

Poor Hitsugaya was still thrashing like a goldfish having a seizure, screeching and protesting, while smacking Ichigo for laughing whenever he would accidentally choke out a strangled shriek of laughter. Which, due to the extreme effort that he was putting into suppressing it, when it did slip past his lips, the sound was similar to that of a cat being run over by a truck.

At that precise moment, Matsumoto, Renji, Ikkaku, and Yumichika all came running in, alerted by the commotion.

"Taichou!" Matsumoto shrieked as she shoved the door open, the others close behind her. "We heard screaming, is everything alright, and…Oh…Oh, for the love of sweet Haineko…"

Both Ichigo and Hitsugaya froze.

The rest of the group stopped dead in their tracks, all peering over Matsumoto's shoulders in mute horror at the scene.

Ichigo. On top of Hitsugaya. With one hand grabbing at his hips and waist. The other clutching the side of Hitsugaya's kimono, pulling the folds open to allow himself more space to lay the groundwork for his regime of tickling doom.

It all actually looked really suggestive, really awkward, and really, really, really _wrong_.

"Oh…" Matsumoto muttered, face tinging pink as she clapped her hands to her mouth in shock. "I-I'm sorry, taichou. Are we…Are we interrupting on something here?"

"N-No!" Hitsugaya spluttered, his face flushing bright red in a humiliated blush as he hastily sat up, shoving Ichigo's hands away from his hips and fumbling with his robes in an attempt to readjust them. "We…We weren't doing anything. Right, Ichigo?" At this point, he gave Ichigo a very mean glare indeed as if it were all his fault.

"Y-Yeah," Ichigo agreed nervously in a guilty voice. "We were just messing around, and that was it…Uh, I'd better go now. I don't want my dad to worry, and, uh…" Muttering to himself, Ichigo hopped off the bed, giving Hitsugaya an apologetic glance.

"Wait, Ichigo."

"Yeah?"

Hitsugaya looked down into his lap before muttering, "Be careful."

"Don't worry, alright?" Ichigo answered in what he hoped was a bright and cheery tone, though the way Yumichika wrinkled his nose made him aware that he probably just sounded like he was sugar-high. "I'll kick that bastard's ass if he comes anywhere near me or you again. So, chin up. Smile for me, won't you?"

"No. I don't feel like it."

"Fine, be that way," Ichigo retorted, pretending to be hurt. "I'll see you around, okay, Toshiro?" And with a final wave, he made his way hastily past the still freaked-out Matsumoto.

As he passed through the doorframe, he became aware of Renji, who had poked him hard in the ribs.

"Ow! What was that for!?"

"How the hell do you do that!?"

"Huh?"

"You've got to tell me! How do you do it? C'mon, what's your secret?"

"Do what?"

"Get laid in less than ten minutes!"

"…"

"…"

"Um, Renji? I don't really know what you're talking about. We weren't doing anything, you know."

And with that, he hastily scrambled away.


	14. Your Mom is Stupid, Fat, and Ugly

Author's Note: Gasp! This is the second to last chapter! Time sure flies, doesn't it? I tried to stick in a twist at the end of this chapter, but I dunno, it's pretty predictable. This chapter's a tad longer, too.

* * *

After Ichigo's departure, there was a rather long and awkward silence. 

"Ne, taichou," Matsumoto giggled, elbowing her captain. "What were you and Ichigo-kun up to, eh?"

"Nothing!" Hitsugaya shot back immediately. "We weren't doing _anything_. At all."

"Oh? Is that so? I think you're lying, taichou."

"If you must know," the prodigy huffed, "We were merely messing around. He was, erm…tickling me a bit. Just for fun. Not a big deal, right?"

Matsumoto began to giggle insanely at this. "Tickling!? Wow, taichou, I'm actually really surprised you let him keep his limbs and liver. Why didn't you fight back, huh?"

"Hyorinmaru was out of reach," he merely responded.

"Liar!" Matsumoto squealed. "You are _totally_ lying! You liked it, didn't you? Ooh, taichou, you're so cute!" she gushed.

"Matsumoto, I'm warning you-"

"Oh, I wonder what you sound like laughing, perhaps I ought to try tickling you someday to, that would be something wouldn't it?"

"Matsumoto!"

"O-Oh…Sorry, taichou," she apologized sheepishly as the temperature began to yet again drop steadily.

* * *

As he made his way down the street, Ichigo took note that it was about one in the morning, the air was frigid, and the sky was still pitch dark. Flickering streetlights lined the sidewalk, but Ichigo realized that one by one, they were slowly fizzing out. 

A chill ran down his spine as another light went out. This gave him a bad feeling, as if something ominous was approaching. As another light near him flickered and died, he suddenly felt it – a smothering wave of reiatsu, almost nauseating. The last light on the street flickered into nothingness, and that was when Ichigo knew that something – no, someone – was coming. And he had a good feeling he knew who it was.

Cautiously, he pulled his substitute shinigami badge from his back jeans pocket, clutching it in his hand nervously. "C'mon, you bastard, I know you're out there," he muttered. "Don't try to hide from me."

"If I hid, I'd never be able to kill you."

The response had come from directly behind him. Horrified at the fact that he had let his guard down, even for a split second, Ichigo ducked, leaping aside as the blade of a katana sliced through the darkness, missing his cheek by inches, instead slicing a tuft of orange hair from the top of his head.

As he skidded to a stop on the concrete, he slammed badge into his palm, and with a burst of light and reiatsu, he had successfully freed himself from his gigai and was now in his shinigami form, Zangetsu strapped securely to his back. He gripped the sword, unsheathing it, and just in the nick of time, too – As a second strike came flying at his throat, he was able to thrust the broad blade forward to protect himself.

"Bastard!" he accused. "Attacking me when I'm off guard – That's playing dirty!"

"Your mom's dirty," was the calm response as the figure appeared in front of him. Ah, so it _was_ Plastic Surgery Boy. What a surprise. Not really.

Twitch. Twitch.

"Oh, hell no! You'd better not be saying things 'bout my mama!" he retorted. As we all know, his mother had been killed when he was but a wee lad, so all things maternal still made him somewhat sensitive.

"Yeah? Well, I am! Your momma's so stupid, it takes her two hours to watch _Sixty Minutes_."

That did it.

Infuriated, Ichigo swung Zangetsu at Kusaka's head, shrieking, "Yeah!? Well, _your_ momma's so fat, whenever she goes to the beach, the Coast Guard always has to come to take care of reports of a beached whale!"

Metal met metal in a loud clang.

"_Your_ momma's so ugly, your daddy only married her because he was scared not to!"

Kusaka seemed to disappear, and a split second later, Ichigo felt a sharp pain in his side. His hand moved downwards, and he felt blood, but now was no time to panic, he took another swing at Kusaka. Damn, that guy was fast.

"Your momma's so ugly, Dreamworks called yesterday. They said they needed Shrek back for filming a new movie!"

"Your momma's so hairy, whenever kids see her, they think she's Smoky the Bear!"

Ichigo swung blindly again, which was actually a stupid thing to do. Needless, to say, he missed entirely, instead, another sharp pain ran up his arm, and he could feel warm blood trickling down to his hands.

This was getting nowhere. Ichigo decided that bankai was the way to go, and he'd have to do it fast. He'd have to end the fight quickly – It was now or never.

He clasped Zangetsu in both hands, holding the blade parallel to the ground, letting loose a cry of "Bankai!" before becoming engulfed in a surge of his own reaitsu.

"Even if you use bankai, I can kick your ass without even having to use shikai!" Kusaka announced.

"Yeah? Then bring it on, pretty boy!"

"Your momma's so fat, whenever she swims, people scream, TSUNAMI!"

"God dammit!" Ichigo screeched as his reiatsu fizzled down and regulated itself, Zangetsu compacting and slimming in his hand, his shihakusho taking on a new appearance. "This isn't about our damn moms! This is about Toshiro, isn't it?"

"About fucking time you figured it out!"

"Well, I bet your momma's so stupid, she never would have figured it out!"

The two of them lunged at each other again for a second bout of vicious attacks, punctuated with heated exchange of "your momma" insults, their reiatsu spiking wildly with each blow to the other.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the Inoue residence, Hitsugaya had been minding his own business, laying down the groundwork and sketching attack formations for use when the next wave of Arrancar invaders would arrive in the real world, when he suddenly felt a faint wave of familiar reiatsu. 

He could sense Ichigo's, it wasn't too hard to figure that out. The second seemed vaguely like Kusaka's, but he couldn't be too sure. Whatever the case was, it made him feel uneasy, and he knew at once that something was terribly wrong.

"Matsumoto!" he called as he hurried down the stairs, slipping a piece of Soul Candy between his lips as he did so, ejecting himself from his cumbersome gigai, which fell to the ground and rolled limply down the stairs. "Come with me at once."

"Yes, taichou!" The fact that he had pulled Hyorinmaru's strap back over his shoulder told her that this was serious business. The fukutaichou of the tenth division rid herself of her own gigai before securing Haineko at her waist.

"Good," Hitsugaya nodded. "Abarai, I'm leaving everything here up to you then."

"Yes, sir."

And with that, the two of them were out the door, using shunpo to get to the location of the wildly fluctuating bursts of reiatsu, moving as quickly as they could through the night, weaving through rows homes and columns of buildings.

As they moved on, Hitsugaya could feel the reiatsu getting stronger, which meant they were getting close. He could have sworn he had heard Ichigo's voice amongst a racket of katanas clashing against katanas, declaring something along the lines of, "Your momma's so ugly, not even a desperate lesbian will go out with her!"

He stopped on a building, holding his hand out, gesturing for Matsumoto to stop as well. The two of them stood there, watching wide-eyed, as in the air in front of them, Kusaka and Ichigo were striking wildly at each other.

Kusaka seemed relatively unhurt, save a small gash at the side of his face, though Ichigo looked to be having his ass kicked. Blood ran down his face, his shihakusho sleeves were torn, and his robes were stained with the dark bodily liquid.

"Stop it!" Hitsugaya screamed "This is no way for you two to settle conflicts between yourselves! You're not grade schoolers anymore! You should know that simply hauling out your swords and hacking away at each other isn't going to solve _anything_!"

"Shut the hell up!" Kusaka yelled right back. "Everything's _your_ fault, so you have no right to fucking lecture either of us!"

Ichigo lunged at him, taking opportunity of the moment where he was temporarily distracted, slashing Zangetsu across his opponent's chest. Blood spurted through the air, staining Ichigo's blade and Kusaka's robes.

Hitsugaya's eyes widened in horror, before his hand flew to Hyorinmaru. He was about to unsheathe his katana, but was stopped as Matsumoto placed her hand on his, shaking her head.

"What are you doing!? If I don't intercept…"

"Listen, taichou, and remember this well," she replied gravely. "There are two kinds of battles. Each time we fight, we must know whether it is a fight to protect life…or a fight to defend honor. Right now, Ichigo-kun and Sojiro are fighting for honor. For your honor. For their own honor. If you intercept, you may save their lives, but what will become of their pride?"

"…"

"…"

"…You just totally stole that line from Ukitake, didn't you?"

"Erm, yeah," Matsumoto admitted sheepishly. "It's really cool though! It sounds so darn intellectual. You know, I've been waiting for a really long time to be able to use that quote!"

Meanwhile, Ichigo had decided, that even bankai wasn't going to work.

He needed to use something else.

Namely, he needed help from…guess who?

He put his hand to his face, thinking to himself, Eleven seconds. He'd finish it then. In just eleven seconds, that was all he could afford.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" Kusaka demanded.

"None of your business!"

"Fine. Then I'll just have to stop you before you try anything funny!"

Before the hollow mask could fully materialize on his face, there was a pause, and before Ichigo could react, Kusaka had appeared in front of him, slashing his katana hard across his stomach.

The impact sent the bits of mask that had made it shattering, and it caught the strawberry off guard enough so that it sent him plummeting to the ground, hitting the earth with a sickening crack, Zangetsu clattering uselessly to the side.

He didn't have time to regroup before Kusaka appeared again, katana pointed at his throat.

Hitsugaya's aquamarine eyes grew into the size of saucers.

_"Stop it! Both of you!" _

Ignoring him, completely, Kusaka thrust his katana towards Ichigo's head, at an incredible speed. There was nothing more the orange-haired teen could do to defend himself, and all he _could_ do was squeeze his eyes shut and wait for the impact.

Then, the sickening sound of a blade tearing into flesh. Blood raining down to earth.

Surprisingly, Ichigo felt no pain as hot blood splattered onto his face.

Wait a minute…this couldn't be right.

He cautiously opened his eyes, which instantly widened in shock and horror.

The blood that now stained his face, his hands, his clothes…That blood was not his.

It was Hitsugaya's.

The white-haired boy had thrown himself in between the two fighting shinigami, with some help from shunpo, a last resort to save Ichigo from certain death. And the consequence was Kusaka's katana, which had made its way clean through his stomach, as if he was nothing more than a Hitsu-kabob.

Horrified, Kusaka stared at his blade, wide-eyed, then looking up to Hitsugaya's face. Droplets of blood stained the boy's cheeks and white hair, soaking into his robes, a ring of crimson forming on his haori.

"Toshiro…Why…Why did you fucking do that?"

"I don't know," Hitsugaya responded weakly. "I don't know."

Still shocked, Kusaka slowly slid his blade out of the boy's midsection, sickened at the sight of his katana being stained with the blood of the very boy that he had loved so fiercely.

With a whimper of pain, Hitsugaya clenched his eyes shut as the blade was pulled from his abdomen, before collapsing in a messy heap of blood shihakusho.

Ichigo's arms shot out to catch him before he hit the ground, wrapping themselves around the bloodied figure. He had nothing to say. He couldn't even manage to utter the name of the boy who had just saved his life, the words seemed to be trapped in his throat.

"Taichou!" Matsumoto screamed, her face pale as she shunpo'd to the scene. "Taichou! Oh my god…He's…I'll call for a medical relief squad from Soul Society at once…"

Ichigo, on the other hand, had nothing to say. He couldn't even manage to utter the name of the boy who had just saved his life, the words seemed to be trapped in his throat, frightened to come out, lest guilt strangle the meaning out of them and transform them into tears.

Hitsugaya looked up into Ichigo's face, his vision going blurry, pain shooting through his entire body. The last thing he remembered was Kusaka desperately calling his name, and something falling from Ichigo's eyes and dripping onto his face…tears, perhaps? But that couldn't be. Surely, Ichigo wouldn't throw away his "tough guy" reputation that he had kept for all those years, just over this? But he had no more time to contemplate this, as he was finally swallowed up by the darkness.


	15. Retard?

Author's Note: After much consideration and after some requests, I've decided to actually _extend_ this fanfiction to twenty chapters, yay! So this will _not_ be the end, quite yet. The original ending I had in mind was pretty good, actually, but I obviously can't use it anymore, so remember, if my new ending sucks, you punks brought it upon yourselves, understand?

By the way, part of this chapter and the next will be entirely in flashback. So you won't be seeing Ichigo around for a while.

* * *

"Where am I...?" 

Moments earlier, Hitsugaya had clearly remembered the katana going clean through his midsection, and the pain in his abdomen helped him recollect the tale clearly enough. He found that he was lying face-down against the ground, which was slick with ice and rather pleasant.

Upon looking up, he made further discovery as to where he was.

His plain of ice.

"Here again?" he frowned to himself. Was he dead yet, he wondered? Nontheless, he knew who was waiting for him in this plain, and he'd have to find that person - rather, dragon - quickly.

He tried to pull himself to his feet, earning nothing more than a sharp surge of pain in his stomach. Muttering to himself, he wrapped left arm around his injured midsection, using the right to help himself crawl across the ice. At this rate, attempting to walk would get him nowhere. He felt like an idiot, grovelling around on the ice on all fours like a mere dog, but it was the only way he could move at the moment.

Presently, a large, icy figure appeared before him, looking at him through blood-red eyes.

Aha.

"Hyorinmaru..." he murmured, leaning against the dragon's neck, panting. He noticed that he had left a trail of blood behind as he had moved. Great. So now he was a freaking Hansel or Gretel. He didn't know which one he'd rather be. Hansel was the retarded one, but Gretel was smarter, though she _was_ a girl.

_"You're hurt."_

"Very clever of you to observe," Hitsugaya retorted acidly, hands folded over his wound. God, it hurt.

_"You must rest."_

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Ha. Dragon got owned by a midget.

_"Do not worry, Toshiro. Relax for nows. Ichigo will not let you die."_

"Why do you never use contractions, Hyorinmaru?" Hitsugaya inquired. "In fact, zanpaku-to's in general don't normally use contractions. You think it makes you sound smarter?"

_"Shut up. The point is, just rest. You'll be alright. Ha! I used a contraction!"_

With a small nod, Hitsugaya shifted his position, curling up against Hyorinmaru's icy body, though he somehow felt an extreme discomfort in his body. He couldn't quite explain what it was until he felt a bead of sweat running down his forehead.

"Hyorinmaru...It's so hot over here..." His eyebrows creased as he squirmed uncomfortably. The heat was encircling him, crushing his lungs. "It's too warm...Please, make it go away..."

It was a simple equation: heat plus ice equals bad news.

_"Like I said, you'll be alright,"_ Hyorinmaru reassured, feeling his master tensing against his body. _"Relax. Ichigo will not let you die."_

Somewhat comforted, Hitsugaya tried his best to "relax," as Hyorinmaru had advised, trying to fight away the heat that was threatening to suffocate him. Pain still shot through his stomach, causing him to grit his teeth. He wanted to just let go, something, anything, to stop this suffering.

And then he slipped back into darkness, Hyorinmaru's icy breath unable to reach him.

Slipping away, and into his past.

* * *

**Flashback.**

_"Who's the midget?"_

_"What's with his hair? And his eyes? They're so creepy."_

_"How old is that punk anyways?"_

_"What were they thinking, letting a kid like him into the academy?"_

_Trying to ignore these harsh remarks, a young Hitsugaya, who couldn't have been much older than eleven or twelve at the time, made his way across the academy grounds, moving through crowds of infinetely taller people staring and pointing fingers at his back. Let them talk, he told himself. Let them say what they wanted. He would kick their asses later, and then they'd see who'd still be talking._

_Nonetheless, he could feel his confidence deteriorating as each comment met his ears. He kept his eyes glued to the ground, not wanting anyone to see their color. _

_"Oi, midget, watch where you're going!"_

_Unfortunately, he had been trying a little too hard to hide his eyes. He hadn't been paying attention as to where he was walking, and he had smashed into the leg of a tall, scary-looking older student._

_"S-Sorry," he muttered quickly. _

_"What're you doing here anyways?" the student demanded. "You've got a lot of nerve, showing your face here, kid. Go home and play with your teddy bears or something. This is no place for someone like you to be. Get lost."_

_Right, now he was getting pissed off._

_"In case you're too stupid to notice, which it certainly appears to be so," Hitsugaya snapped, straightening and glaring fierecely back, "I'm wearing an academy uniform. I have as much right to be here as you do."_

_"Don't make me laugh, squirt! You're not fit to be a shinigami! You're still a child! Sure, you've got a pretty face, but you probably just got lucky on the entrance exam. What makes you think you can become a shinigami?"_

_It was then that the student noticed that the temperature had gotten kind of cold._

_"Eh? What the hell is this?" He shook his hand in the air, noting that frost had begun to form on his fingers. A surge of freezing reiatsu knocked him off his feet, forcing him to the ground, landing hard on his ass._

_"Y-You punk!" he screeched, realizing that the reiatsu had been coming from Hitsugaya. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"_

_Hitsugaya did not respond, merely staring at his opponent's left hand, which was still accumulating a heavy layer of ice. He stared intently at it, as if his willpower alone could cause it to shatter._

_And much to his surprise, it did._

_Shards of bloody ice scattered across the ground as the student howled in pain and horror, staring at what used to be his hand, which was now nothing more than a bloody, frozen stump._

_"You bitch! I'll kill you!"_

_The student lunged at Hitsugaya with his remaining right hand, seizing him by the throat and slamming him to the floor. "What the hell did you do to my hand!? I'll rip out those freakish eyes of yours for that!"_

_"Let go of me!" Hitsugaya yelped, struggling wildly, but it was hard to move under his much heavier opponent. "Get off of me, you bastard!"_

_He couldn't move, he couldn't breath. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as the student slammed his head repeatedly against the floor, pain shooting through his entire body. He felt so helpless, and at this rate, his skull would probably be smashed open, until..._

_"You'd be smart to leave him alone."_

_Another voice cut into his assaulter's streams of curses. This suprised him enough so that he stopped, looking up at who had dared address him._

_Hitsugaya, too, looked up, struggling to see who had intervened, which was kind of hard to do, seeing as he was still trapped underneath his attacker's body. He could, however, make out the figure of a tall, thin young student, pale-skinned with raven-colored hair._

_"Are you deaf?" the figure spoke again. "I told you to leave him alone."_

_"Humph," the student scoffed. "What if I don't, Kusaka?"_

_"Then you'd make me angry," the young man answered, who apparently, went by the family name of Kusaka. "And you don't want to make me angry, do you?" A smile appeared on his lips, a smile which was oddly intimidating, and his reiatsu had suddenly become very, very, scary..._

_"Y-Yeah," the student stammered as he quickly got to his feet. "S-Sorry...I'll just be off now..." And with that, he hastily scrambled away._

_"Stupid punk," Kusaka mused, watching him flee. "I despise spoiled brats like that who won't accept their own retardation." He turned back to Hitsugaya, who was still sprawled on the floor, and extended a hand to assist him. _

_Cautiously, Hitsugaya took his hand, a faint blush crawling its way across his face upon contact. Fortunately, it wasn't very noticeable._

_"The name's Kusaka Sojiro. And, may I ask your name?"_

_"H-Hitsugaya Toshiro," the flustered young prodigy stammered. There was something about this stranger that felt oddly comforting to him, though he couldn't really put his finger on what it was or why. _

_"It's a pleasure to meet you," Kusaka beamed. "Don't let those idiots get to you, okay? Don't hesitate to kick their asses either."_

_"Y-Yeah..."_

_Kusaka tilted his head in sudden interest. "Hey, Toshiro...Has anyone ever told you that you've got really pretty eyes?"_

_At this, Hitsugaya instantly lowered his gaze, somewhat ashamed. "No," he muttered. "Everyone's afraid of them."_

_"Afraid?" Kusaka laughed. "There's nothing scary about being different, is there?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"You will know soon enough...Hey, Toshiro, have you got any friends?"_

_"Not really."_

_"Good," Kusaka smiled warmly, "Then you've got one now. How does that sound to you?"_

_"Fine, I guess..."_

_"Great. Well, I should be going now, I'm already late for kido class. I'd really like to see you again sometime, okay, Toshiro?"_

_"O-Okay."_

_With a smile and a wave, Kusaka stood and left, simply disappearing, as if he had never been there to start with, leaving Hitsugaya to wonder alone..._

_...Why was his heart beating so fast?_


	16. Selfish?

Author's Note: You know, KusaHitsu is a lot harder to pull of then you'd think...Anyways, since this chapter is also in flashback, it was really hard to squeeze in any humor at all. So don't expect to be laughing anytime soon during this chapter. Sorry.

* * *

_As the days progressed, Hitsugaya would see Kusaka around, maybe five times or so a day, and a few more times in the dormitories. The two would occasionally stop to make conversation, and they would train together often, or sometimes they'd even ditch kido class to go out and look at the sky. It felt nice, the white-haired boy thought, to have a familiar face to look to amongst the sea of the other rather hostile shinigami candidates. _

_It felt nice to see him smile. _

_It felt nice to hear him laugh, to hear him speak. _

_It felt nice to see him waiting by the door of the classrooms, ready to walk him to his next class. _

_It felt nice to think about Kusaka Sojiro. There was something about him that made Hitsugaya feel safe and secure with himself, though he wasn't quite sure what it was or how. Maybe it was the fact that he was the only one who respected him and didn't look down on him for his young age, or the fact that he came from a poor district of Soul Society. Maybe it was the strange talent he had for cajoling a laugh out of him, for Hitsugaya almost never laughed, let alone smile. Kusaka always had a kind word or a joke he would eagerly share with him, and never before had Hitsugaya felt so happy and with another person. _

_Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. They lost track of time. Years could have passed, but they weren't aware of it. They couldn't afford to focus on time. _

_The two became an inseparable pair, always seen together, eating together, training together, laughing together, talking together, walking together. It was the refuge that Hitsugaya had always been looking for – someone to shield him from the cruelties of society and to make him feel like he was actually worth something. _

_And then came that day. _

_"Oi, Toshiro!" _

_At the sound of his name being called, Hitsugaya turned, and as he expected, saw Kusaka hurrying to catch up with him. _

_"Call me by my family name!" he insisted. _

_"Oh, come on, we're friends, aren't we? And you've got to stop calling me Kusaka. I have a given name, you know, and I'd like it if you used it." _

_"Not until you stop calling me by my first name." _

_"If you insist," Kusaka laughed, patting his head and ruffling his hair. "Then I suppose I'll never hear you say my first name, because I intend on calling you 'Toshiro for a while." _

_"Oh, do shut up. You'll have no choice when I become your superior." _

_"If you say so," the raven-haired youth replied with a warm smile. "Anyways, that's beyond the point…Toshiro, will you meet me by the West Gate tonight right after classes? There's something I need to ask you." _

_"I don't know if I can make it," Hitsugaya frowned, fiddling with the sleeve of his academy uniform. "Sensei might be expecting me to help some flunkies with swordsmanship…" _

_"Toshiro, please. It's really importamt." _

_"Fine." _

_"Great," Kusaka beamed. "I'll see you then. I've got to run now." _

_So, wondering what exactly it was Kusaka wanted to ask him, Hitsugaya made his way through the rest of his classes in curiosity. Nothing out of the ordinary happened during this time, so as classes came to an end for the day, he hurriedly made his way to the West Gate, quietly enjoying the chill that had set over Soul Society's dusk. _

_When he arrived at the specified area, he found that Kusaka had not yet arrived, so he merely stood there and waited. The minutes slowly ticked by, and there was no sign of his raven-haired classmate. The minutes turned into hours, and, tired of standing, Hitsugaya was forced to sit in the dirt, drawing his knees up to his chest to stop himself from shivering slightly against the biting cold. Still no sign of Kusaka._

_Where the hell was he, and what was he thinking?_

_As soon as he was about to simply get up and leave, he heard his name being called from nearby._

_A scowl came over his face as Kusaka reached him. _

_"I've been waiting for about four hours now," he informed him curtly._

_"I know, I know," Kusaka answered apoligetically. "I'm really sorry. Sensei made me stay in for accidentally blowing a huge hole in the side of the building during kido class."_

_This drew a small laugh from Hitsugaya. That Kusaka Sojiro, always overdoing it._

_"Well, anyways...So, um...This might sounds really sudden and really weird, but, you know, I've been really thinking, Toshiro..."_

_"...Yes...?"_

_"And, we've been friends for such a long time. I really like you Toshiro. I really do. And I know you've been waiting for a really long time already, so I don't want to keep you out here in the cold for much longer, so I'll make this real quick..."_

_"What is it?"_

_Kusaka's answer came out in a rushed, nervous tone. "I've never had more fun with anyone else, so I was wondering...Well, I'd feel like the happiest guy alive if you'd go out with me."_

_Hitsugaya's eyes widened in surprise._

_"You...what?"_

_"I-If you don't want to, it's alright," Kusaka spluttered, mortified. "I mean, I'd be okay if you just wanted to stay friends, and..."_

_"N-No...It's just that...Well...Well, to be honest...I'd love to."_

_"Seriously!? Geez, Toshiro, you're the best," Kusaka smiled, and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy's shoulders before leaning in for their first kiss._

* * *

_Years passed, until both had graduated from the academy. _

_Both of them were happy._

_But Hitsugaya noticed that this happiness was wearing off._

_Kusaka reacted to his presence less and less. He seemed preoccupied with other things, and he could tell that there was always something troubling him, though he refused to tell him what it was. And it became apparent that whenever they were together, Hitsugaya couldn't help but feel unsafe and distrustful. What was he hiding from him?_

_Nevertheless, he continued to confide to him, even if he wasn't doing the same, and despite the fact that he was starting to trust him less and less, and actually beginning to feel a little fear around him._

_"Kusaka...I've been promoted to the taichou rank."_

_"Really? Congratulations," he responded half-heartedly, unfocused and unattentive._

_Hitsugaya let out a sigh. "Where were you?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Have you even been listening to me? I've been telling you about it for weeks. You promised to be at my examination, and you didn't show up. You promised to be at my promotional ceremony as well, but you never came."_

_"Oh," Kusaka answered simply. "It must have slipped my mind. I'm sorry, Toshiro. I really am. You know I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I'm proud of you, I really am. But I'm not a perfect person. I can't meet all your expectations."_

_"Expectations?" Hitsugaya repeated icily. "You made a promise to me. Of course I'd expect you to keep that promise. I'd really like to forgive you, but you didn't come to either event."_

_"I already said I was sorry! Just drop it already, will you!? It's not my fault if you're demanding that I focus on you for every goddamn minute of the day!" Kusaka snapped back, angrily, almost viciously, in a manner that seemed to startle Hitsugaya, who looked away quietly._

_"I'm sorry. It was selfish of me to expect you to come, especially since you probably had other things to do..."_

_"It's alright," Kusaka answered, his voice softening. "It was really stupid of me to forget. I love you, okay? Don't forget that." He placed a kiss on his forehead before standing up. "I should be going now. My taichou's expecting me to deliver a report soon. Congratulations on your promotion." As he turned to leave, Hitsugaya suddenly made up his mind._

_"Kusaka, wait."_

_"What is it? I'm going to be late."_

_"You and me...We're just too different. I don't know how we can commit to each other."_

_"Toshiro, what are you saying?"_

_"I'm saying that it won't work between us. I hate to say it, but...I'm sorry, Kusaka. We should really end it..."_

_"Our relationship?"_

_The new taichou of the tenth division nodded quietly._

_"I understand," Kusaka answered in a voice that was unusually cold. "I don't have anything more to say to you. If you'll please excuse me now."_

_And with that, he turned his back and simply left._

_And a month later, if not a little more, came the day that Hitsugaya would never forget. The day that would haunt his memories for the rest of his life..._

* * *

Author's Note: Ooh, cliffy! Next chapter will also be partly in flashback, if not wholey. 


	17. Goodbye?

Author's Note: This chapter isn't that funny either, in fact, it's not funny at all. Yuck. It came out kind of cheesy. I didn't really like it that much. Tell me what you guys think. On a lighter note, I'm very pleased to announce that we've officially reached 100 reviews here. Thanks, everyone!

_

* * *

__With a sigh, Hitsugaya half-heartedly filled out the mountains of paperwork that had been accumulated on his desk, pausing only to take a sip of piping hot green tea to soothe his nerves. It had already been a few weeks since he and Kusaka had split, and it had left him feeling extremely guilty and doubtful, and now, in the dead of night, as he struggled to catch up on the paperwork his fukutaichou had neglected, he couldn't help but constantly wonder, had he really done the right thing? _

_Their split certainly had been affecting the young taichou of the tenth division rather negatively, too. He hadn't seen Kusaka at all since the initial break-up, but he was constantly bombarded with annoying phone calls from him. He wanted to forgive him with all his heart for his negligence and his distrustful habits, but he knew that he didn't have the guts to do it. Not only that, but gossip about their split had spread like wildfire throughout the Seireitei – some rumors stated that Kusaka and Hitsugaya simply grew sick of each other's faces, others suggested that perhaps Kusaka was jealous of Hitsugaya attaining the taichou rank and excelling far beyond him. _

_Whatever the case was, Hitsugaya didn't have the heart to explain to anyone when they asked, but he **did** know that despite everything, he was beginning to miss his raven-haired ex-boyfriend's presence. _

_As he pondered on these thoughts, twirling his calligraphy brush between his slender fingers in a distracted fashion, his attention was suddenly averted to his office door as the sound of it being opened snapped him out of his thinking. Looking up and setting his brush down, he was surprised to see who it was who had come to visit him at such an unusual hour. _

_"Kusaka?" _

_With a sigh, his ex-boyfriend made his way across the room until he was standing in front of him, the pair separated only by Hitsugaya's desk. The white-haired prodigy could tell that he was troubled, more so than usual. _

_"Toshiro, I'm leaving tomorrow morning." _

_"What do you mean?" Hitsugaya inquired, confused. _

_"A mission. I'm being deployed on a mission." _

_"I don't understand why you're telling me this. What kind of mission is it?" _

_"I can't tell you. It's classified information between my division and the sotaichou." _

_"Then that mean that…It's a dangerous mission, isn't it…A suicide mission?" _

_Kusaka sighed again, before responding, "I can't answer that, but what I will tell you is this…Toshiro, I know we've split a while ago, but hasn't stopped me from still loving you. I still love you right now, even as we speak. So, please, I want you to do one last favor for me." _

_"Fine," Hitsugaya muttered. "What is it?" _

_Kusaka reached down to his katana's sheath, where there was pinned a small, golden-colored brooch in the shape of a multi-faceted star, or even a sun, depending on how one would interpret it. _

_"Please, I want you to keep this." He reached over, gently pinning the trinket to the sash that held Hitsugaya's katana over his shoulder, a small smile appearing on his face as he stepped back to survey his handiwork. "Looks nice on you," he commented. _

_Looking down to the brooch, Hitsugaya softly ran his fingers over its ridges and spires, his eyes drifting back up to look at Kusaka. "I can't accept this," he whispered. "I'm not worth it." _

_"Yes, you are," Kusaka insisted. "Please, Toshiro. It isn't too much of me to ask, is it? So please, take good care of it." _

_"Kusaka…" _

_"I guess...I guess I'll see you around then," Kusaka muttered, quickly turning away and starting for the door. "Goodbye, Toshiro." _

_And then he was gone. _

_It was the last time Hitsugaya would see him. _

* * *

**_One week later. _**

_Another ordinary day in the Seireitei. Nothing much was going on, and the weather was fairly nice, in Hitsugaya's opinion, meaning that it was relatively cold outside. The piles of paperwork had become monstrous – the stacks were nearly as tall as the young taichou himself. _

_As he went through one sheet, at a time, he couldn't help but wonder what had become of Kusaka. He was worried sick about his safety, which had led to the severe loss of sleep over the past few days. _

_He then gently touched the brooch that Kusaka had given him. He had made him a promise, and he had sworn to himself that as long as he still lived, he would wear that precious trinket, pinned to his katana sash. _

_As the minutes ticked by, presently, he heard a knocking at his office door. _

_"Come in," he called, peering around the mounds of paperwork to see who had business with him. He frowned, seeing a young man with red hair enter, the insignia of the sixth division strapped to his arm. _

_"What is it, Abarai? I'm very busy right now." _

_"I'm sorry, Hitsugaya-taichou," Renji replied, "But news just got back today about the unit that Kusaka Sojiro had been in and their mission. The sotaichou thought it be kindest to let you know…" _

_"Know what?" Hitsugaya demanded, his hand curling involuntarily around the small brooch. "What is it?" _

_"I'm so sorry to tell you this, Hitsugaya-taichou, but…" _

_Hitsugaya's heart instantly began to swell with dread. Please, he mentally begged, please, please, don't let it be… _

_"…Kusaka Sojiro was killed in action. The entire unit sent was slaughtered. His body was the only one unable to be recovered." _

_There was a long, stunned silence. _

_"I…I see," Hitsugaya whispered, his eyes widening and his grip on the brooch tightening in such a fashion that his knuckles whitened dangerously. His breathing came out strangled; his heart was racing painfully in his chest. He couldn't breathe, his head felt light, the world around him felt unreal. "You may…You may be excused." _

_And then he totally lost it. _

_He covered his eyes with his hands, trying in vain to hide the tears that were spilling from their teal depths. His small body was racked with quiet sobs as he let forth the emotions that he had desperately been trying to forbid himself to show. _

_Feeling a little awkward and uncomfortable, unsure of how to deal with a crying captain, Renji briefly nodded before stepping out the door, leaving Hitsugaya to fall deeper and deeper into the abyss of hopelessness alone. _


	18. Strawberry in Icy Fields Forever

Author's Note: Last chapter was probably the worst...It was way too short and way to weird and cheesy and boo-hoo-look-at-me-I'm-Hitsugaya-and-I'm-an-angsty-little-boy-ish for me...And I am also aware of the fact that these flashbacks have almost no connection with the actual events that happened in Hitsugaya's past, but that's why it's called _fiction_. Here's Chapter 18. Hope it's better than the last one.

* * *

As Ichigo listened to Renji recounting Hitsugaya's past in regardance to Kusaka, he couldn't help but feel a little pity for the pair. Kusaka had loved Hitsugaya almost to the point of obsession, he figured, and maybe that explained why he seemed to be a little unstable in the head. 

But, according to Renji's story, Kusaka hadn't always been like that. Maybe something happened to him in the period of time that he was supposed to be "dead." Perhaps he had hit his head on something and acquired minor mental retardation. But that still left the mystery of why he had suddenly taken an extreme liking to the word "fucking" all of a sudden.

"I was the one who delivered the death notice to Hitsugaya-taichou," Renji explained solemnly. "Wish that it wasn't me that had to deal with it. He started blubbering right away. You have no idea how weird that felt. But it's pretty pathetic, really. After that day, no one's ever heard him laugh again, and nothing anyone did could make him laugh, either, or even smile. Seems Sojiro was the only one who could, until you came along."

"Stupid!" Ichigo reprimanded. "You should have comforted him!"

"Oh, so you say that now!" Renji retorted, "But if I comforted him, say, today, for example, you'd accuse me of hitting on him."

"Hmm, that's true," Ichigo agreed in a serious voice.

Renji stared at him and blinked. "Wow…You're kind of stupid, Ichigo."

"Am not!" Ichigo snapped. "I'm smarter than you'll _ever_ be, and smarter than Plastic Surgery Boy over there, too, for that matter."

"Oh, yeah? Prove it!"

"I read in a science magazine somewhere that redheads are even dumber than blondes!"

"Then _your mom_ must have been a redhead, too!"

"No way! I inherited her orange hair!"

"Yeah, right! I bet your hair's colored with fake dyes! How much beta-carotene do you need to eat a day to keep that freakish color, huh!?"

"It's natural! Perfectly natural! You're just jealous because _your_ hair looks like an overgrown pineapple covered with tumors!"

"Well, _your_ hair looks like freakin' Strawberry Fields Forever!"

"It does _not_!"

"Hey, you two over there, will you both just fucking shut up!?"

Both Renji and Ichigo froze, turning their heads to look at Kusaka, in a guilty fashion, like two children caught in the act of making mischief. Their surprise did not last long, however, as Ichigo was not about to submit to him.

"Who are you to tell me to shut up?" he demanded.

"If you really care about Toshiro, you'd better fucking be quiet."

"Why, you-" he stopped, however, realizing that Kusaka was right. He looked to his side, where Hitsugaya's motionless form was lying on the ground. On Hitsugaya's other side sat Orihime, who Matsumoto had hurried to fetch. Under Ichigo's begging and requests, she had agreed to do her best to heal him, and now, she was finished. Whether or not her treatment was effective was something they would have to wait for to find out about.

"This is the best I can do, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime explained apologetically. "He hasn't shown signs of waking up anytime soon, and his wound needs to be bound so it doesn't re-open itself later, but I don't have the materials to…"

"Bindings?" Ichigo repeated. "I'm on it," he added firmly as he promptly began to tear long strips of cloth from the sleeves of his shihakusho without so much as a single thought to the fact that he was mutilating his own shinigami uniform, and how retarded he would look later, like he had been attacked by a troop of vicious gnomes.

As soon as he had acquired several strips that seemed to be long enough to go around Hitsugaya's slender middle, he pulled the unconscious boy's body on his lap and gently pulled the folds of his robe open at the waist to access the wound. He then began to fasten the strips of cloth around his midsection where Orihime had indicated, securing each strip with a hard, tight knot.

"Come back to us, Toshiro," he begged mentally, pondering if attempting telepathy would be a smart option. "Come on," he whispered, stroking his hair. "Don't you dare leave me…If you leave me, I'll never forgive you…"

He concentrated hard, thinking and wishing with all his might.

This misled Renji to believe he was suffering from constipation, due to the expression on his face that was a product of his extreme focus.

One second, Ichigo was there, in the material world, and in the blink of an eye, he suddenly found that his surroundings had changed.

"Where the hell am I?" he demanded bluntly, but there was no one around to reply. The area was completely barren, like a desert, save some sparse, skimpy, sad excuses for vegetation. It reminded him unpleasantly of Hueco Mundo, but there was no way it could be a desert.

First of all, the temperature was killer cold. His teeth had already begun to chatter. And second of all, the ground was covered entirely by a thick layer of ice and snow.

He took a step forward, only to slip and fall, landing hard on the ground, his poor rear end sore and cold from the impact on the ice. Muttering to himself and rubbing his throbbing behind, he stumbled clumsily to his feet and slowly took another step.

"Hey," he announced proudly to himself, "I'm starting to get the hang of walking on this damned hunk of ice…Huh?" Directly ahead of him was what seemed to be a large river, frozen over. He wondered if it was solid enough to step on.

Deciding to press his luck, he placed a foot firmly on the icy surface.

And he instantly wished he hadn't.

The "river" moved viciously underneath his foot, whipping around, sending him toppling off balance and skidding across the ground. A split second later, rows of razor-sharp teeth made of ice snapped like a steel claptrap, and he was able to scramble out of the way only by a hair's width.

Eyes glowing red like freshly spilled blood glared malevolently at him, icy breath misting over and hitting him head-on, chilling him to the very bone. He realized that he had just stepped on the tail of an ice dragon, and a _really_ pissed off ice dragon at that.

But even he was able to realize, this was no ordinary ice dragon. Not that ice dragons were remotely ordinary at all, anyway.

"Hyorinmaru," he breathed, the words barely able to fight their way past his violently chattering teeth. That could only mean one thing – He was in Hitsugaya's mind. But how the hell had he ended up there?

_"Who are you?"_ the dragon hissed, nearly knocking Ichigo over again with another wave of icy breath and reiatsu. _"How is it that you know my name, boy? Answer me, or I will kill you." _

"H-Hang on a second, Hyorinmaru!" Ichigo spluttered. Crap. He was _so_ not about to be eaten alive by his boyfriend's zanpaku-to. "I'm not here to hurt anyone! I just want to see Toshiro for a sec-"

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

_"Stay away from my master!"_ Hyorinmaru roared, and this time, the burst of reiatsu that was produced really _did_ knock Ichigo off his feet.

Hyorinmaru and Hitsugaya really did have something in common – both of them had _really_ bad tempers.

"N-No!" Ichigo protested, "It's not like that! I swear I won't hurt him; I'm only trying to help! Look, he's dying, and…and…"

_"Why do you value his life so much?"_ Hyorinmaru demanded.

"Because," Ichigo snapped heatedly, "Because I love him, okay? It's really none of your business, and-"

_"You love him? Then you must be Kurosaki Ichigo, correct?" _

"Um, yeah," the strawberry answered, surprised. "How'd you know?"

_"Oh, I know lots of things. I know how your mother died. I know the names of everyone in your family. I know that you have a thing for Shakespeare. And I even know where you live, too, so you'd better be careful." _

"Shakespeare!?" Ichigo spluttered, his face turning red. "I do _not_ like Shakespeare!"

_"Yes, you do too. My master told me so." _

"He did?" Ichigo muttered sheepishly, slightly embarrassed. "Um, so…Where is he anyways?"

At these words, Hyorinmaru's body instantly curled defensively around something, or someone, who, or which, Ichigo could not see, as the coils of Hyorinmaru's icy body were protectively hiding its form.

"Please?"

_"Even if my master trusts you, it is difficult for me to do the same." _

"Oh, _come on_, Hyorinmaru!" Ichigo whined. "Be a pal!"

Reluctantly, Hyorinmaru slowly moved his body, flickering his tail outwards to allow Ichigo access. _"If you hurt him, I will freeze you in a very special place, and you will **never** be able to have children, do you understand?" _

"U-Uh…Yeah. I understand," Ichigo answered, a bead of sweat forming on the back of his head. Hyorinmaru's threat had been _really_ scary. Without further hesitation, he hurried forward, running around the dragon's tail.

That was when he saw what Hyorinmaru had been shielding.

Hitsugaya's motionless form, lying face-down in the snow, surrounded with a puddle of his own blood.

He inhaled sharply, caught off guard by the sight. It was really heart-breaking, to see Hitsugaya in such a fragile, helpless state.

"Toshiro," he murmured, hurrying to his side, kneeling by him and scooping up his body, holding him tightly against his chest. "Toshiro, please, stay with me…"

He heard a small whimper escape from the white-haired boy's slightly parted lips, and he promptly looked down, just in time to see Hitsugaya's eyes begin to open.

_"Thank you, Kurosaki Ichigo. I knew you would save my master, no matter what the cost…I am indebted to you." _

Those were the last words he heard from Hyorinmaru, before in a rush of reiatsu, he suddenly found himself back in the material world, Hitsugaya's body still in his arms, his eyes now fluttering open.

"Ichi…Ichigo?"

"Toshiro!" Ichigo spluttered, delighted. "Toshiro, you're okay! Thank god you're alright, seriously, you had me scared to death there…"

He held Hitsugaya tightly, before looking up at Renji, who was staring at him with a very weird expression on his face.

"What?"

"What did you just do, strawberry?"

"What do you mean?"

"You just suddenly spaced out. It was freaky. I thought you died or something."

Ichigo stared back at him sweatdropping, and deciding not to tell Renji about his brief adventure inside with Hyorinmaru in Hitsugaya's mind.


End file.
